


Fragile Lines & Wasted Time

by waxbirds



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternative Title: Oh My God They Were Roommates, F/M, Fake Marriage, Roommates, This fic is 28k in one chapter I'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 22:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12199035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxbirds/pseuds/waxbirds
Summary: “Chris and Reader are roommates (and also friends from school/college/whatever) and Reader’s family is pressuring her about relationships so she says she’s married to Chris and they take it seriously and invite him to the family vacation. Chris and Reader lie to Reader’s family and pretend to be married” AU





	Fragile Lines & Wasted Time

The first time you moved in with Chris, it was out of necessity. Your best friend and their significant other had found a house near campus with four bedrooms to fill; you’d needed a place to stay that was cheaper than the campus dorms. With them in one room and you in another, it still left two bedrooms vacant. Your friend’s significant other ended up roping two guys you’d seen around into the other two rooms, telling you that they were good dudes they knew from their classes. You’d definitely seen them around campus, but you hadn’t exactly spoken to either of them. Still, when they helped you move all your shit into your room and not just the stuff you’d brought for common areas of the house, you were pretty sure they were actually “good dudes.”

You and Chris ended up becoming really good friends in the two years you lived in the house. There were times that you didn’t want to third wheel while hanging out with your best friend, so you found yourself bugging Chris and Aaron quite a bit instead. There were times that Aaron would just vanish for hours on end without anyone really knowing where he was going or what he was doing, leaving you and Chris alone. You’d grown close in the times where you’d convinced Chris to walk down to the Chinese restaurant with you because you didn’t want to go alone, the times he’d parked himself in the living room to watch movies on something bigger than his laptop, and the times you two just took comfort in spending time with each other. There were nights you’d be sitting on his bed while he sat at his desk, working on papers. It was just how the two of you were.

The second time you moved in with Chris, it was because it just made sense. After college, no one in the house had wanted to stay near the college campus. It was time to move on, but that left you with a bit of a problem. You didn’t exactly have anywhere to go except home…far away from the job you’d somehow wrangled before graduation. Living on your own was going to stretch your budget pretty thin and Chris was going to be working not far away from where you were…it’d just made sense for the two of you to move in together. You’d already lived together and you were comfortable with one another; it’d be better than living with a stranger. You were fairly certain you’d have to argue with him a bit to get him to agree, but he immediately said yes as soon as you suggested it. He said it’d only be for a few months and then you’d finally be free of him.

A few months turned into a few years. You renewed your lease three times, and neither of you had any real desire to change your living situation, so you two just continued to live together. Your main group of friends continued to be your old housemates, who had absolutely no problem giving you and Chris shit for being ‘an old married couple.’ There were days you’d be out with your best friend and remember that it was Chris’ week to go shopping and have to text him to remember to bring something home, or when you’d be out somewhere and see something and grab him and point at it and say you could use one for your apartment only to have him just nod and say “Whatever you want.”

The only people who really didn’t seem to think you were already part of a married couple were your family. After your family scattered across the country, your parents demanded once a month that you, them, and your siblings all have a skype call and they loved to wallow in the fact you were still single.

“When are you going to consider settling down?” asked your mother for the million time in the last year, causing you to roll your eyes. At least it was only an audio call.

“Seriously,” snorted your brother. “You’re never going to meet anyone if you keep living with that guy.”

That guy. God, they loved to go on about the fact you lived with Chris…CHRIS. That was it! They’d shut up about him and about being single if you were with Chris. You’d opened your mouth before you fully thought it through.

“Except that guy and I got married like…two months ago,” you blurted out, eyes widening as you heard what you were saying.

The uproar was immediate and staggering. Four separate screaming voices turned into crackles in your speakers and you sat there, trying to think of how to dig yourself out of that hole.

“Shit,” you breathed, mentally smacking yourself as you tried to think of what you could even say to fix it.

“[Y/N]!” your mother snapped. “What in the hell were you thinking?”

“That we didn’t want anything big,” you said instantly, “We were going to tell you when we were all together.”

“Like at the beach house in two weeks?” your brother asked.

“Like then exactly,” you answered, “but I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

“We will talk about this then,” said your mother in a tone of voice you knew all too well. It was going to be ugly.

“Right…” you trailed off. “Well, I’m going to go, I’ve got a dinner to get ready for…bye!” You hung up as quickly as you could, also closing your laptop for good measure. You sat there for a moment, face buried in your hands, trying to scrape together any sort of solution for the problem that was your big, stupid mouth when the front door opened.

“Family talk not go well?” asked Chris as he entered the apartment. They’d been going on for so long, and there had been a fair few times Chris had walked in on the skype call, or intentionally left to give you some time even though you always offered to just go sit in your bedroom. You turned from your spot at the island in the kitchen to see Chris still standing by the door, the living room between the two of you. Then, it hit you.

“Hey,” you started. “You, uh, know how you owe me a couple favors?” you started, chuckling awkwardly. Chris’ brows furrowed as he looked at you, dropping his keys on the small table you put by the front door.

“Yeah?” he answered, apprehension lacing his voice. He made his way through the living room into the kitchen, stopping across from you and leaning on the island. “I take it you’re cashing one in?”

“All of them, actually,” you explained, giving him the biggest, cheesiest smile you can muster in an attempt to butter him up. “I…uh. Might have said something stupid to my family and now they think we’re married.” Chris stared at you for a moment before breaking into a smile and laughing.

“No, I’m serious,” you whined. “They were giving me shit for not settling down yet, you know how they do that, and then my brother mentioned that I’ll never get anyone if we’re still living together and then just…it came out?” You watched his face contract into his familiar thinking face, shaking his head a little.

“So, you said we’re married?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I have no idea why. I just didn’t want to have that conversation again and you know how Aaron and everyone’s always calling us an old married couple! My brain short-circuited and it just kind of came out.” You took a deep breath, sliding out of your chair to get to Chris and grab him by the arms. Absentmindedly, you noted that Aaron dragging him to the gym seemed to be doing some good, but quickly shook it to the back of your mind. “Chris, I’m begging you here. I already told them we got married like two months ago and we were going to tell them at the beach house in two weeks. I know this is asking so much but please, please just come up with me for the week, pretend to be my husband and then we can tell them we got divorced because we were dumb and young and impulsive and move on with your lives.”

“[Y/N]…” Chris trailed off, tongue darting out the corner of his mouth while he thought. “I don’t know.”

“Chris, please,” you begged again. “Think about it. You know me better than anyone. We’ve lived together for like seven years. It’d be like zero effort. Everyone jokes about us being married anyway.” He stared at you for a moment before nodding.

“Yeah, I guess I can pretend to be your husband,” he said, laughing a little. “As ridiculous as that is.” You let out an excited yell, pulling him in for a tight hug.

“You are my hero,” you told him, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The two of you quickly decided to keep your stupid plan to yourselves, and your friend group already knew that you were going on vacation with your family; you disappeared a week or so every year. Chris told them he was inspired to go visit his own family and he’d be gone for a little while too. It was more to stop them from making more jokes and you knew Chris was a little on edge about the whole thing; you weren’t sure if the jokes would make it worse or not.

“So, are we going to figure this whole thing out?” asked Chris one day during a lunch break at the mall. You both needed clothes to bring to the beach house, and it’d just made sense to go together. Sometimes, Chris needed direction in a store. You adored your roommate, but he hung out with Aaron enough that his fashion sense suffered.

“Figure what out?” You moved the menu you’d been looking at to look over at Chris to see him staring at you.

“You know,” he started, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He motioned to himself then to you and back. “Us,” he said awkwardly. “You know, the story we’re going to tell your family.”

“Oh,” you breathed, chuckling slightly. You glanced back at the menu, picked the first thing that looked good and dropped the closed menu on the table. You looked at Chris, chewing on your bottom lip as you thought. “I mean, I told them we got married two months ago,” you explained. “But other than that, there wasn’t anything special that they know about.”

“Okay…” Chris trailed off, nodding as he closed his own menu. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by the waitress returning with your drinks, asking to take your order. Once she was gone, he turned back to you. “What about the rest of it?”

“The rest of it?”

“Yeah, the rest of it,” he repeated, nodding. “You know, how we got together. How long we’ve been together…why we decided to elope? Where we did it,” he listed, “All the questions they ask when you get trapped in a room with extended family.”

“Oh,” you said shortly.

He was right. Of course, he was right. It would make everyone’s day easier if the two of you sorted all of it out before you got to the beach house. You hadn’t even considered it. You were busy freaking out about what you’d said, you’d hadn’t considered how to get out of it. Thank goodness for Chris. He was always the voice of reason when you did something stupid.

“Well, the how is easy enough,” you pointed out. “We’ve lived together for eight years now. It was inevitable and eventually we realized that.”

“Right,” sighed Chris, nodding. “Inevitable.” There was an awkward moment where you and he looked at each other, you trying to figure out what the look on his face was before he was nodding again. “That makes sense.”

The two of you quickly decided to keep your stupid plan to yourselves, and your friend group already knew that you were going on vacation with your family; you disappeared a week or so every year. Chris told them he was inspired to go visit his own family and he’d be gone for a little while too. It was more to stop them from making more jokes and you knew Chris was a little on edge about the whole thing; you weren’t sure if the jokes would make it worse or not.

“So, are we going to figure this whole thing out?” asked Chris one day during a lunch break at the mall. You both needed clothes to bring to the beach house, and it’d just made sense to go together. Sometimes, Chris needed direction in a store. You adored your roommate, but he hung out with Aaron enough that his fashion sense suffered.

“Figure what out?” You moved the menu you’d been looking at to look over at Chris to see him staring at you.

“You know,” he started, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He motioned to himself then to you and back. “Us,” he said awkwardly. “You know, the story we’re going to tell your family.”

“Oh,” you breathed, chuckling slightly. You glanced back at the menu, picked the first thing that looked good and dropped the closed menu on the table. You looked at Chris, chewing on your bottom lip as you thought. “I mean, I told them we got married two months ago,” you explained. “But other than that, there wasn’t anything special that they know about.”

“Okay…” Chris trailed off, nodding as he closed his own menu. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by the waitress returning with your drinks, asking to take your order. Once she was gone, he turned back to you. “What about the rest of it?”

“The rest of it?”

“Yeah, the rest of it,” he repeated, nodding. “You know, how we got together. How long we’ve been together…why we decided to elope? Where we did it,” he listed, “All the questions they ask when you get trapped in a room with extended family.”

“Oh,” you said shortly.

He was right. Of course, he was right. It would make everyone’s day easier if the two of you sorted all of it out before you got to the beach house. You hadn’t even considered it. You were busy freaking out about what you’d said, you’d hadn’t considered how to get out of it. Thank goodness for Chris. He was always the voice of reason when you did something stupid.

“Well, how we got together seems pretty obvious,” you pointed out. “I mean, we’ve lived together for almost eight years now? If anyone asks, it was just bound to happen.”

“Right,” sighed Chris, nodding. “Inevitable.” There was an awkward moment where you and he looked at each other, you trying to figure out what the look on his face was before he was nodding again. “That makes sense.” He took a long sip of his drink and you continued to watch him, a little confused at the awkwardness of it all, but you realized, you had roped your roommate into pretending to be your husband. Awkwardness was to be expected.

“We’ve been together…maybe six or seven months?” you suggested. “It makes sense because…” you started.

“Because that’s how long it takes for you to decide whether or not you want someone to meet your parents,” Chris finished, chuckling a little. “I know, [Y/N]. You stress out about it every time you start dating someone.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah, I could set a countdown to about six months after your first date and it starts,” he explained, smiling slightly. “You get all fussy when you answer his texts and you get extra whiny about the upcoming family call because do you tell them about this guy or don’t you? Because we all know the second you do, they have to meet him.”

“Too real, Chris,” you laughed, burying your face in your hands. You hated him a little for that, but your roommate was absolutely right. You always thought you were the only one to notice (god knows, you suffered only to yourself and one time your best friend, who told you to just get it over with) but Chris seemed to know you better than you thought he did.

“Sorry,” he apologized through his own laughter, reaching out to ruffle your hair. You peaked out between your fingers to see Chris smiling apologetically at you and you felt a sudden rush of affection towards him. You always liked that about Chris; when he apologized, he more than likely actually meant it.

“It’s fine,” you told him as you let your hands fall onto the table. “I just didn’t think you noticed.” He shrugged, taking another sip of his drink, which you took as a signal that the topic was (blissfully) dropped.

“We decide to elope because eight years is a lot of time to waste,” you offered, mentally ticking through the list Chris has set. “And I don’t know…we went on vacation somewhere?”

“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “If we went on vacation, there’d be pictures that they’d want to see,” he pointed out. “We just woke up one morning and went to the courthouse. No fuss because we didn’t want it.”

“I can a thousand percent get behind that,” you stated. “Maybe if we act like it’s not a big deal, they’ll get bored and get over the asking us questions part quickly.”

“God, I hope so.”

The both of you laughed, and the conversation was cut by the arrival of your meals. You had barely gotten to the first bite of your meal before the idea of dates popped into your head, and between points of chewing, the two of you talked over some of the dates you thought you’d have gone on at some point. Quickly though, it was becoming apparent that both of your ideas of dates were just the things you and Chris already did, give or take a detail or two. It’d make lying on the fly easier; lying always seemed to be easier when based on a grain of truth.

It wasn’t until the two of you were long past done with your lunch and almost done with your shopping entirely that you realized that there was something more for the two of you to buy. If you both were going to fool your entire family into thinking you were married, the two of you had to look the part.

“Chris,” you said nervously, giving him an equally nervous look. He stopped as you two exited the candle store you had just pulled him into just to smell all the things, giving you a look.

“Yeah?” he answered slowly, raising his eyebrows at you.

“We…uh,” you faltered, not really sure how to explain what you needed to tell him. Finally, after rolling through a dozen explanations and liking none of them, you simply held up your left hand to show him what was missing. Chris stared at you for a moment, brows furrowed before you saw the realization dawn on him.

“Oh,” breathed Chris. “I…uh. Guess we’d need rings, then?” he asked somewhat uncomfortably.

“I think so?” you answered, voice coming out several pitches higher than normal.

“I do too,” he said slowly, looking around where the two of you were standing before spotting what he was looking for. Chris headed away from you, mumbling about having to check something, and stopping at the map of the mall a few feet from you, printed into a vending machine. He stood there for a minute, looking for something before nodding once and turning back towards you. “We need to go this way,” declared Chris before walking straight past you, leaving you to turn on your heel and follow after him.

“Why are we going this way?”

“Because we need to buy rings,” he stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Have to go to a store that sells them.” He led the way up the escalator, and then around the corner to stop at a bench, nodding at the jewelry store not far off.

“We…can just go get some cheap rings at Target,” you suggested, looking at the store and then at him. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably before adding, “it’s not that big of deal. We really don’t have to spend that kind of money to lie to my family, Chris.”

“After everything I’ve heard about your family,” he chuckled, “I think if we showed up with anything less than the real thing, they’d be able to sniff it out before we got within ten minutes of the beach house.”

“You…raise a good point,” you conceded, nodding. Your family was annoyingly perceptive and you knew that keeping up the whole charade was going to be an uphill battle. “Still, that’s a lot of money and I don’t…” you started, but he just shook his head.

“We’ll worry about that later,” he told you. “We can probably sell them or something.” He cleared his throat, rocking back on his feet. “I, uh, have an idea,” Chris informed. “Just go with me on this, okay?”

“Alright?” you told him, giving him a confused look. You trusted Chris with your life, and he was doing you the biggest favor anyone had ever done for you so whatever he was about to do, you were going to go along with it.

“Come on then.” Chris shifted all his bags to one hand, and after faltering for a second, slid his arm around your shoulder. He led the way towards the jewelry store, taking you with him and you were incredibly aware that it was your roommate that was so close to you that you could smell his cologne. He was giving your shoulder a nervous squeeze as the two of you crossed the threshold into the store.

“Can I help you?” chirped a sales clerk from nearby, and you turned to see her bright smile.

“I, uh, we,” Chris started, laughing nervously. “We’re looking for wedding rings,” he explained, rubbing your arm as he spoke. “Don’t really know where to start.”

“Well, I can definitely help you with that!” she told you, slipping out from behind the counter. “Do you have an engagement ring you’d like to match with?” she asked you, looking expectantly at your hand, which you quickly took into your other hand to hide the lack of ring.

“It’s…uh,” you giggled, feeling incredibly nervous and smiling. “It’s been a short engagement and I think we’re ready to just, you know, go do it, don’t you think, babe?” You looked over at Chris expectantly to see him giving you an affectionate smile that made you giggle nervously all over again unexpectedly.

“Don’t see why we can’t just go down to the courthouse and worry about the party later,” he said, looking over at the sales clerk. “We’re kind of spur of the moment people.”

“It sounds like you have it all figured out, then!” the sales clerk said brightly, “If you’d like to see some wonderful wedding rings, they’ll be right over here.” She led the way over to a case towards the center of the store. You looked down into the case at the rings and your eyes almost fell out of your head. There were far too many diamonds on every ring in that case and the prices had to be astronomical.

“I, uh,” you started, “I’m more of a low-key kind of person when it comes to jewelry,’ you explained. “Do you have anything a little less…shiny?”

“Of course,” she told you, but you could see her momentary disappointment, presumably about missing out on a big commission. “Right over here.” She led the way to another, smaller case off to the left and you followed after her. Chris let his arm fall from around your shoulders as he stayed behind to look at the case.

You peered into the case to see that these rings, thankfully, were much smaller and cheaper than the first one. You looked around for a moment, answering questions so she could make suggestions. But then you saw what you were sure was the perfect ring towards the back. It was simple, one modestly sized princess cut diamond set on a band with no other stone. It was small and honestly perfect. Even if you weren’t pretending to be married and looking for cheap rings, you’d probably pick something like that for yourself.

“Can I see that one?” you asked the sales lady, pointing to the ring you were looking at.

“A wonderful choice,” she told you, unlocking the case to retrieve it. “Understated and elegant.” Just as she held the ring out for you to take, Chris appeared, and this time, instead of putting his arm around your shoulders, he draped it lazily around your waist, looking at the ring you’d picked out. He traced circles against your hip bone with his finger as he continued to look at it.

“She’s always had good taste,” Chris told the sales clerk, smiling again, and you slid the ring on, holding your hand out to look at it.

“It looks like it was made for you,” the sales clerk said brightly, “it’s the perfect size for your hand and it seems to fit like a glove.”

“It really does,” you agreed, and you looked over to Chris, and was taken aback by how close he was. “What do you think?” you asked, slightly breathless.

“I think if you love it, dear, it’s the one you should get,” he replied, nodding a couple times. You rolled your eyes, looking back to the sales clerk.

“How much is this ring?” you asked, trying to figure out if it was in your budget. Not that you had a budget for a wedding ring, but you knew how much you had put away.

“Don’t worry about that,” Chris said quickly before she could answer. “If you like it, that’s what matters.” You gave him a quizzical look, trying to figure out what he was playing at.

“I do like it, but if it’s too expensive…” you started to explain but Chris just shook his head.

“I’m not worried about expensive, dear,” he told you, putting the emphasis on the pet name. “I just want you to be happy.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he just gave you that smile that always seemed to shut you up. You didn’t know what it was about him when he smiled at you like that, but it always made you feel a little fuzzy. “I, uh, guess I’ll take this one then,” you told the sales lady, feeling somewhat dazed as you slid the ring off and held it out to her. She thanked you, taking it from you and locking the case back up.

“And what about you, sir?” she asked, turning her attention to Chris.

“Anything that you think would match hers would be fine,” Chris told her. “Silver?” he guessed, looking at the ring in her hand.

“White gold,” the sales clerk corrected, nodding towards a case close by. “But there are a number of men’s options in it, and I’m sure we can find something you’ll like.” As she headed for the case, she turned to the both of you. “When’s the big day?” she asked.

Chris turned to look at you, grinning brightly and winking at you. “Today, actually,” he informed. “As we said, kind of a quick engagement. We’re ready to get right to the married part, aren’t we, dear?”

“We are,” you agreed, giving him a look and rolling your eyes. “God knows we’ve waited long enough.”

“How long have y’all been together?” the sales clerk asked, looking from you, to your ring, and then to the rings in the case to try and match one to yours.

“Oh,” you sighed, “only seven months. But we’ve known each other eight years,” you explained, “I think we’ve wasted enough time not just getting to what we both want.” You gave Chris the sappiest look you could muster, but to your surprise, he didn’t mirror it. In fact, he wasn’t looking at you at all and was instead staring down at the case of rings as if his life depended on it.

Within the next few minutes, Chris had picked out a ring for himself, and shooed you out of the store while he bought them both. You protested heavily but in the end, you sat on the bench outside while he stood at the register and a few minutes later, he was coming out with a small bag added to his collection.

“You should have let me buy my own ring,” you told him, glaring. “Hell, I should have both them both since this is my fault anyway.” Chris just shook his head.

“[Y/N], don’t worry about it,” he sighed. “I owe you money anyway for groceries and whatever.”

“Not two wedding rings worth,” you countered and he just smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

“We can settle up when this whole thing is done,” he told you, holding the small bag out. “What do you think, put them on now and make it look like we didn’t just buy them?”

“Makes sense,” you told him, patting the seat next to you for him to take. You took the bag from him as he sat, and pulled out both small black, velvet boxes. You opened one to find his ring and suddenly, you were stuck with an idea. You put the other box in his lap, and giggling, slid off the bench to kneel on one knee in front of him.

“Chris, will you be my fake husband so my insane family will chill?” you proposed, trying to keep your giggling to a minimum. He looked down at you and laughed before nodding.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said nonchalantly, and you laughed even harder. You took your spot back on the bench, sliding his ring out of the box as you did so. You held your hand out to him expectantly.

“What are you doing?” questioned your roommate as he gave you a confused look.

“It’s bad luck to put your wedding ring on yourself,” you explained. “And I think it qualifies even if it’s a fake marriage.”

“Oh,” he said and gave you his left hand. You bit your lip to hold back your giggles, and slid the band he’d picked out for himself onto his ring finger. After you let his hand go, he held his hand out for you and said, “It works both ways, [Y/N].” You rolled your eyes but gave him your left hand. Very gingerly, he took it and after fumbling one-handed with the box, he took the ring and slid it onto your finger.

“And now we’re husband and wife,” you told him, laughing a little. “At least for the next month.”

“God,” sighed Chris, “This will be the longest month of my life.” You gasped in indignation and opened your mouth to protest but he burst into laughter and ruffled your hair.

“Come on,” he said. “We should get home before they kick us out of the mall.” With that, he stood up and dug around his back pocket before pulling out his keys. You shook your head, grumbling about rudeness but followed him towards where the car was parked.

For the most part, you and Chris kept the ring wearing to a minimum. You wore them around the apartment, still bouncing ideas off each other about things that could make your marriage seem more real to your family. The longer the two of you wore them, the more you hoped they’d end up with a ‘definitely not new’ kind of look, but honestly, they didn’t look too different. Eventually, you decided if anyone was to raise concern about it, you’d just gush about how it was so important to you and how you two bought a care kit to keep them pristine.

Three days before you were set to leave for the beach house, you got a snap from Chris while he was at work. Captioned with oops! and a string of emojis was a picture of Chris’ hand to show he was definitely wearing his ring at the office. You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. Changing to the messages app, you typed out a quick message to tell him not to lose his ring (with added emoji) and that you’d almost walked out the door with your own ring on yesterday.

They seemed to be like everything else with you and your roommate: comfortable.

You were met with a response from Chris that said he’d never lose anything as important as his ring, especially when the last thing he’d want to do was upset his beautiful wife. Reading it made you both roll your eyes and feel…lighter. A few seconds later, he sent a string of laughing emojis and that was that.

With both of you working (especially considering Chris taking a two-week vacation out of basically nowhere) the two of you ended up on the red-eye to the beach-house. You only made it ten minutes into the flight before you could feel yourself wanting to doze off. Wordlessly, you nudged Chris’ arm until he held it out to you, giving you a confused look. You wrapped your arms around his, holding it to you the same way you would a pillow you decided to cuddle with during a couch nap, and laid your head on his shoulder. You had dozed off within a minute, even though planes made you anxious. You had Chris, and every time you took a breath, you were comforted by his familiar scent.

“Hey,” a voice whispered, and the arm that you were holding jiggled, trying to wake you up. “[Y/N], we just landed and my arm is dead. I can’t carry you through the airport so you have to wake up,” Chris told you gently, chuckling a little. You mumbled incoherently, trying to process what was going on and answer him, but your brain was very slow to get back up to speed. Blinking a couple times to try to get your eyes to focus, you let go of your roommate’s arm, which a elicited quiet ‘thank god’ from him, and sat up to see everyone on the flight around you preparing to deplane. You stood up, still groggy, waiting for your turn to file out of your row and out into the airport. As your turn came, you reached for Chris’ hand, intertwining your fingers to ensure you didn’t lose him.

“Where…going?” you muttered, finding it hard to form a full sentence as you couldn’t quite shake the sleepy feeling.

“Baggage claim,” Chris said, pointing towards a sign that said it was forward; it also helped that that seemed to be the direction everyone else was going in. “Come on,” he added, tugging you a little closer so instead of holding your hand, he could throw an arm around your shoulders. He pulled you close to press a kiss to the side of your head. You perked up, giving him a questioning look.

“Have to…” he trailed off, furrowing his brows, “you know, get used to doing stuff like that,” he explained quickly. “Figure get the whole…weird, awkward part out of the way now.”

“Yeah,” you said sleepily, “okay.” With that, you let Chris lead you towards the baggage claim, and leave you to try and make sense of what he meant by the ‘weird, awkward part.’

You figured it was just the being so touchy-feely. You and Chris had gotten pretty comfortable with the using each other as a pillow thing, but the kissing thing was definitely new. It was only then that you realized that at some point within the next two weeks, you were more than likely going to have to kiss your roommate. You also realized you didn’t exactly know how you felt about that eventuality. You’d have to cross that bridge when you got there, which was not on the escalator down to the baggage claim in the airport. By the time the two of you got there, the conveyor belt hadn’t yet begun to move, and you decided you’d wait by throwing your arms around Chris’ middle to use him as support as you dozed off again.

“Don’t fall asleep on me,” sighed your roommate, halfheartedly trying to stand you up straight. “At least let’s make it to the car.”

“Car,” you repeated, “right. I should text my brother to make sure he’s actually here.” You groaned before standing up straight and letting go of Chris. You dug around your back pocket for your phone, and after a minute, you navigated to your brother’s conversation in your messages. Before you could text him, however, a message popped up. Reading it over, you smiled and your head popped up and looked around. Your brother had simply texted you ‘I’m here, dork. Look around’ and considering how sleepy you still were, it took a minute for you to spot your older brother sitting on a set of chairs off to the side of the now moving conveyor belt.

“Hey!” you greeted, smiling sleepily at your brother as you headed for him with your arms held out. He chuckled a little as he stood up and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Slept during the flight, right?” he guessed and you nodded the best you could. “Yeah, you look like shit,” he told you, laughing harder now.

“Fuck off,” you chuckled, squeezing your brother before letting go. You turned to find Chris, and it took you a minute before spotting him by the baggage claim, pulling your suitcase off the belt with his own already next to him. “I’m gonna go grab my stuff,” you stated before heading towards where your roommate was standing, your brother on your heels.

“Shouldn’t the two of you be sharing luggage?” he asked skeptically. “Since you two are, you know, apparently married and all.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you asked, feeling your stomach drop slightly. You thanked Chris for grabbing your suitcase and took it from him, still staring at your brother. Chris went to greet him, smiling but your brother was still focused on you, a look that made you uneasy on his face.

“Lying to your family is a pretty crappy thing to do,” he stated, “especially when you upset Mom that much.”

“Well, it’s a good thing no one’s lying then,” you told him shortly. You went to rub your face, specifically with your left hand to subtly show your brother the wedding ring you were wearing. “Now stop being weird and let’s just go back to the house.”

“You’ve been telling us for years that you and Chris were just friends,” your brother pointed out. “And now you’re married. There was lying at some point, [Y/N].” You groaned in response, rolling your eyes. You went for Chris’ hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze (he looked incredibly uneasy as he watched your conversation) and nodding towards the exit.

“We’re not having this conversation now,” you informed. “I’ve been awake like nine minutes, and both Chris and I worked today. We’re tired and it’s time to go back to the house.”

Luckily, your brother took that as the end of the conversation, and turned towards the exit. You and Chris followed after him, and once Chris was sure your brother wasn’t within earshot, he leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

“It’ll be fine,” you whispered back. “We knew they weren’t going to be happy, but we’ll be fine. It’s going to work.”

The conversation was finally dropped as the two of you followed your brother to the rented car, threw your luggage in the trunk, and got in the car. It was a half hour drive to the beach house, and you struggled to stay awake, but from the rearview mirror, you could see that Chris hadn’t won his fight with sleep. He didn’t have the same worried look he did not long before, and at that moment, you felt your first real pang of guilt of dragging your roommate into a ridiculous lie. 

Chris was an absolute angel of a human almost a hundred percent of the time, except on the occasions where he wasn’t so great. Most of your complaints about him as a person and as a roommate stemmed from the same thing: dating. You could never explain why but you’d hated absolutely every girl he’d ever dated and their ability to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home. They irritated you in some way or another, and every time he had a girl over, you’d hide in your bedroom until she was gone or asleep. It was always a relief when they broke up.

You never understood Chris’ shitty taste in women, but it was pretty much the only thing you could ever think of to say bad about him. That and sometimes he had annoying habits like not screwing caps all the way back onto containers. He’d never done anything to you, and you basically conned him into what was going to be the most anxiety inducing two weeks of his life.

When you reached the beach house, you turned to wake Chris to see he had woken up at some point, and he smiled sleepily at you. You smiled back, ignoring the way he had, as always, made your brain a little fuzzy. The two of you threw your doors open before your brother had even turned off the car, sliding out to hear the sound of shells in place of gravel crunching under your feet. As you headed for the trunk to grab your stuff, your brother cleared his throat.

“You guys are staying in the room you usually do,” he explained. “Can you find it in the dark? You’ll probably wake someone up if you turn the light on.”

“Of course I can,” you stated dismissively as you pulled your suitcase out of the trunk.

“I’ll just follow her,” informed Chris, pulling out his own suitcase and closing the trunk. His hand fumbled with yours for a moment, but with a little effort, the two of you had laced your fingers together and you led him towards the house. The two of you stood behind your brother while he fiddled with the lock, and swung it open. You pulled your roommate into the entryway, and navigating your way around the small table that stuck too far out into the doorway, slipped into the hall. Carefully, you stepped onto the first step of the stairway and pulled your suitcase up to rest it on the step.

“Be careful,” you whispered, “the stairs are pitched a little weirdly, and the third stair creaks so try not to step on it.”

“Got it,” answered Chris, apprehension in his voice. “Are you sure we can’t turn on any lights?”

“My aunt and uncle are at the top of the stairs, and she’s a stupidly light sleeper,” you explained. “But I can take out my phone, hang on.” You let go of his hand to dig into your pocket, turning on the flashlight function. It gave basically no light, but at least you and Chris could see the stairs better than in the dark. You skipped the third step, as you always did, straining to keep your suitcase from scraping against the wood beneath your feet. You prayed Chris was going to do the same, and you held your breath while you waited to hear the creak…but it never came. Once you reached the top of the stairs, you turned off your flashlight and held your hand out to him again, and Chris took it almost instantly. You led him down the hall, and after the window on the right halfway down the hallway, and stopped at the next door on the left.

“And here we are,” you announced in a whisper, swinging the door open. Once you were both inside and the door was shut, you flipped the light on and Chris sighed with relief.

“It is nerve-wracking to wander around in the dark,” he chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” you told him, flopping down on the same bed you’d been sleeping in every summer since you were six. The room was the same light blue as the rest of the house and it had been for as long as you could remember, but it seemed suddenly smaller with another person in it.

“The, uh, bathroom’s right there,” you told him, nodding towards the door Chris was standing in front of. You pointed at the door next to you. “We can shove our suitcases in there, make a little more room. The closet’s got some room.” With that, you slid off the bed to replace where you’d been with your suitcase. You dug around for a minute before pulling out pajamas and a bag containing all the stuff you needed to get ready. You tossed them to the side, zipping the suitcase and shoving it into the closet. “I’m gonna get ready for bed.”

When you came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, you found Chris staring at the bed, scratching his head.

“What’s up?”

“We, uh,” he started, turning towards you. “We’re sharing a bed.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “Yeah, I guess we are. I mean, is it really that big a deal?” you asked nervously.

“I guess not,” Chris mumbled. “I’m, uh…” he trailed off, motioning towards the bathroom. He disappeared into the bathroom, and you made a face as you took your place in the bed. Had he not said anything, you wouldn’t have thought twice about sharing a bed with Chris. When he came back out, Chris turned the light out only to walk right into the bed and curse immediately after. After a moment, he threw the blanket towards you and slid into the bed…as far away from you as possible. It was weird to be sharing a bed with someone and have them be virtually unreachable from where you were. Every time he moved, you were incredibly aware of it, and it took you a while to stop thinking so much about it and doze off.

Eventually, you fell asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, Chris was already gone. You could hear the shower in the bathroom running, and you took a moment to relax and stretch out. Your joints cracked one by one, but it made you sigh in relief as you felt instantly better. You sat there, eyes closed, listening to the running water and had almost drifted back off when the door to the bathroom opened. You opened your eyes, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at Chris, and you felt your heart jump up into your throat. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Chris come out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist, but it was definitely the first time you’d really seen it. Usually, you saw him come out the door and whip down the hall into his bedroom, but now your roommate was just standing in the doorway, and you had an uninterrupted, close-up view. All the times Aaron had been dragging Chris to the gym had clearly paid off; you’d noticed offhand that he’d bulked up, but you hadn’t noticed just how good his arms looked, and you had to force your eyes up to his face as he noticed that you were awake.

“Morning,” you greeted, smiling sleepily at him. He licked his bottom lip before his own mouth twitched to form a smile, and Chris’ hand went towards where he’d tucked the towel and grabbed it (you assumed it was make sure it stayed where it belonged).

“Morning,” he said, chuckling a little bit as he headed for the closet. “I, uh, forgot underwear,” he told you, and you knew him well enough to hear the nervousness in his voice. He made a face, laughed and shook his head before heading towards the closet.

“At least you packed it?” you offered, chuckling as you rolled to watch him. You certainly tried to ignore it, but you couldn’t help but notice that it wasn’t just his arms he’d been working on. As he turned back around, you tried to look nonchalantly back up at his face, but by the way he was averting his eyes from yours and biting his lip, your apprising eyes hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“I’m uh,” he coughed, “gonna go get dressed now.” Chris retreated quickly back into the bathroom, and you groaned.

Things were already weird; the least you could do was not make it worse.

You threw the covers off, shivering slightly because the air conditioning was already on. You slid off the bed, ducking into the closet that Chris left open to dig through your own suitcase to pull out clothes for the day (you double checked that you remembered to grab underwear) and when you reemerged, Chris was looking down at his phone. You edged your way around him and into the bathroom. You tossed your clothes to a dry spot on the counter, stripped down and got into the shower. After fighting with the dial for a minute, you got the water to a nice warm temperature and you let out a sigh. You let the water run over you for a few minutes before reaching for whatever bottle of shampoo your mom had decided to leave in there, pouring some into your hand and beginning to work it through your hair. Everything was going fine until you went to pull your hand away from your head and when your left hand moved, it yanked a big chunk of your hair with it. You yelped in pain, putting your hand back against your scalp to make it stop. You ducked under the water in part to get the shampoo out of your hair and you hoped your hair would get untangled from whatever it was with the water.

“What are you caught on?” you asked out loud, gently moving your hand away from your scalp again to test if it was still pulling your hair. It was, but you couldn’t figure out what it was caught on. Then, it hit you.

Your wedding ring.

You’d forgotten to take your ring off before you got in the shower. You whined a little as you went to unwrap your hair from your ring but no matter what you did, it wouldn’t budge. Your next thought was to take the ring off and then try to untangle it, but at the angle your hand was, you couldn’t get the ring off.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered, scrambling to figure out what to do. It certainly didn’t help that there was shampoo in your eye, and the stinging was making it harder to think.

“Chris,” you sighed decidedly after a moment. The only solution you could think of was to see if Chris was still in the bedroom and ask him to help you. With a great amount of effort as you only had one hand to steady yourself, you stepped out of the shower, and grabbed for the dry towel hanging on the wall. After fighting with it for a minute, you managed to get yourself covered as best you could and opened the door.

“Oh, thank god,” you said, “Chris, I need your help.” He looked up from his phone, and his face went from confusion to shock and you watched his eyes move downward and then immediately back up at your face.

“Wh-what?”

“I forgot to take my wedding ring off,” you explained awkwardly, glancing down to make sure everything was covered. “It’s…caught in my hair,” you added. “Help?”

“Yeah,” Chris said quickly, dropping his phone onto the bed and coming to your aid. It took him a few minutes, which was punctuated by you whining as he pulled particularly hard on a strand of hair, which was followed by a hurried apology from your roommate. Eventually though, your ring was untangled from your hair, and in Chris’ hand.

“Thanks,” you sighed, pulling your towel a bit closer to your body.

“No problem,” he told you, smiling as he surveyed the ring in his hand. “I forgot to take mine off too the other day, but I was lucky enough that that did not happen.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” you laughed, “it’s not a good time.” Silence fell and you were suddenly incredibly aware of how close he’d gotten…and then that you were standing there, dripping water all over the place, towel half-sticking to your body.

“I’m, uh, going to get back into the shower,” you informed, suddenly feeling a little awkward. You could feel the color rushing to your cheeks as Chris nodded, suddenly looking very serious and at anywhere but you. You made your way back into the bathroom, and back into the shower. You rushed through the rest of your routine, and got dressed as quickly as possible. Deciding to leave your hair how it was, you ran a towel over it and then a brush through it. That’d be good enough. Everyone in the beach house had seen you in a worse state.

When you reappeared from the bathroom, Chris had settled himself against the headboard, still invested in his phone. When you came out, he glanced up quickly, smiling at you like he usually did.

“You know you could have left the bedroom, right?” you asked, laughing a little. You headed for your suitcase, digging around for a pair of flipflops to wear.

“I know, but…” Chris trailed off, sounding apprehensive. “What if I, you know, ran into someone?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, glancing over your shoulder to where he was still sitting. “You talk to them?” you supplied. “Chris, you’ve met most of my family. My older brother, and my older sister, and my parents,” you went on. “You’ve only never met a few cousins and an aunt and uncle.”

“Yeah, but…” he trailed off again, making a face. “That was before we…you know. Were ‘married,’” he pointed out, using air quotes around the word married. “What if I’d run into someone and they started asking questions?”

“You answer them,” you replied matter-of-factly. “We’ve been talking about this for weeks, dude. You know the story as well as I do and we’re on the same page. You’ll be fine.”

“I’d, uh, just rather have you there,” he told you, smiling nervously. You sighed, feeling both a rush of affection and a particularly painful pang of guilt at the sight. You dropped the flipflops you’d found to the floor, slid your feet into them, and headed for the bed. You took a knee, leaning over to where Chris was and taking his face in both of your hands. He looked up at you, surprise written all over his face, and you pulled his face towards your own and pressed a kiss to his forehead. You made sure he was looking you in the eye, and you stared right back at him.

“Chris,” you said slowly. “We’re going to be fine. We’ve talked through every possible thing my family could possibly ask us, got the rings…hell, you know me better than the majority of my own family. I like to think I know you pretty well too. If there was anyone that could make this believable, it’s you. Don’t get too into your own head about this, please?” you begged. “It’s just like you know me and that we’ve been living together, but now we got fancy rings that say we’re stuck with each other until I can figure out how to talk us out of it. Don’t panic, it’s going to be okay. I’m going to try my damndest to get them to leave you alone, okay?”

You stared at him until he responded by nodding, still staring back into your eyes. It was then you noticed how close your faces were because his forehead connected softly with yours as he nodded, and you could feel his breath on your face. You gulped, nodding once yourself and rubbing a few circles against his cheeks with your thumbs before letting go and backing away from him.

“We, uh, should get downstairs,” you pointed out. “It’s probably lunch time now and Mom always makes sandwiches. If we don’t hurry, we’ll get the crappy ones.”

“Is there such a thing as a crappy sandwich?”

“We wait much longer to get downstairs and you’ll find out,” you chuckled. “Do you still have my wedding ring?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, reaching over to the nightstand next to where he was sitting. You held your hand out to take it from him, but instead, Chris took it upon himself to slide the ring gingerly back onto your finger. You fumbled with his hand for a second before taking it in your own, and giving it a comforting squeeze. He smiled and nodded before tugging you towards the bedroom door.

When the both of you reached the bottom stairs, you could hear your family chatting away loudly in the dining room. You offered Chris a reassuring smile before leading the way into the dining room, and your heart dropped as soon as your family took notice of your arrival, they fell silent. You bit down on the inside of your cheek as your eyes immediately went to your parents, and neither of them looked particularly happy to see you.

“I was starting to wonder if you’d come at all!” your aunt exclaimed, standing up from the table and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug.

“I, uh, almost couldn’t get time away from work,” you chuckled awkwardly, going to hug her back and wonder just how long you could dance around the elephant in the room.

“Well, I’m glad you did,” she told you, letting go of you and turning to Chris. “And you must be the husband we’ve heard almost nothing about,” she laughed, pulling him too into a hug. He chuckled awkwardly, mumbling something you couldn’t make out but before you could say anything, your younger cousin was pulling you into same hug her mother just had, chatting away happily about how excited she was to see you.

The two of you made your way through the dining room, greeting your other two cousins, twin boys who seemed to want to be anywhere other than on vacation with their family, and your uncle. You made the introductions as best you could, dreading when you got to your immediate family. Luckily, your sister seemed happy to see you, and she’d seemed happy to see Chris, which you were incredibly thankful for. You brother grumbled something about not wanting to stand because he was still tired from getting up to drive you from the airport, and you just rolled your eyes and ruffled his hair.

And then, you stopped in front of your parents. Despite the fact it was lunchtime, your father was still reading the newspaper and showed no sign of being interested enough to look up. Your mother stood in front of her chair, displeasure all over her face. For two people who wanted their child to settle down, neither seemed particularly happy you apparently had.

“Hi, Dad…and Mom” you greeted awkwardly, turning to see where Chris was. He hovered not too far from you, glancing at each of your parents in turn, looking twice as apprehensive had he’d seemed upstairs.

“Hi, Mr. [Y/L/N],” Chris said meekly, “Mrs. [Y/L/N].” All your father did in response was grunt and not look up from his paper. However, for your mother, the fact the two of you had acknowledged her existence was enough to set her off.

“Is that really the only thing either one of you has to say to us?” she snarled, glaring at you and Chris in turn.

“Mom,” you started cautiously. You didn’t mind if she yelled at you; it’d hardly be the first time she’d done so and despite the fact you were an adult, you were sure it wouldn’t be the last time she yelled at you. What you were uncomfortable with was the fact she was dragging Chris into it too. She’d always loved Chris, but there was no sign of that now.

“Don’t. You. Dare,” she said, glaring at you. “How dare the two of you do something so…stupid! Something so disrespectful! You don’t even tell us you’re dating and then out of the blue, you’re married?! How could you do something so selfish?” she yelled, and you recoiled back, bumping into Chris. His hand found your hipbone, and he began rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

“Mom, just…” you started, feeling your eyes start to water. She opened her mouth to start yelling again, but before she could, Chris had thrown caution to the wind and cut her off.

“You’re angry,” he said hurriedly, “and neither of us blame you for that. It just…it all happened so quickly. It’s like one day, [Y/N] and I woke up and realized we had wasted so much time pretending we were just friends and before either of us knew it, we were engaged. One morning, I had the realization that I didn’t want to not be married to her anymore and we went to the courthouse. And we were going to tell you, and we still planned on having a party to celebrate but we’re not in as much of a rush now. We were going tell you the news in person but I think [Y/N] was just excited and had to tell you. I’m amazed she kept it in for as long as she did,” he finished, chuckling and giving you an affectionate look.

“And you know,” your aunt said, “[Y/N] and Chris’ engagement isn’t the first one to go quickly. And if I remember correctly, Mom and Dad decided being happy for their daughter and new son-in-law was more important than their pride.” You watched in horror as your mother turned red and started to splutter but eventually gave up and stalked into the kitchen to grab the food. You took a seat next to your sister, and Chris immediately plopped down next to you. The conversation drifted exactly where you thought it would: everyone asking questions about your relationship, asking to see the ring…basically everything you and Chris had talked about. Your parents still stayed silent, but if nothing else, the rest of your family seemed satisfied enough.

When lunch was over, you and Chris found your way out onto the porch. You automatically found your way to the door that led to the part of the porch that faced the ocean. You plopped down into the familiar two-person swinging chair that was suspended from the roof. You patted the spot next to you and Chris sat down, draping his arm around your shoulder whenever you two sat somewhere that seemed a little small for you in an attempt to create more room. Instead, it provided you with the golden opportunity to lean against him more, which was way more comfortable.

“You actually stood up to my mother,” you stated. “You went from being nervous about even being in the same room as my family to standing up to my furious mother.”

“You looked like you were going to cry,” Chris told you. “That’s not a sight I like to see.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, pulling away from him to better glare at him. “I’m sure you don’t look that pretty when you cry either!”

“No, no, no!” Chris said quickly, shaking his head and waving his hands to signal no. “That’s..that’s not what I meant!” He added quickly. “I don’t like seeing you upset, that’s all! You look pretty when you cry,” he babbled, making a face. “I mean, you look pretty all the time, not just when you cry. You’re really, really one the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen.” He looked panicked that he’d upset you and you just sighed and patted his leg, trying to ignore the way your heart was pounding at hearing that he thought you looked pretty all the time and that you were one of the prettiest girls he’d seen.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said good-naturedly, leaning yourself against him once more. “I bet you say that to all your wives,” you joked in an attempt to get away from what was making you feel so lightheaded and giddy.

“Do you have any idea what your aunt was talking about, by the way?” he asked. “When she was talking about our engagement not being the first to go quickly?”

“Oh,” you sighed. “I’ve been so busy panicking about how we were going to make this work, I forgot I had history on my side.” You chuckled a little, beginning to trace patterns against Chris’ leg with your index finger. “My parents rushed through their wedding plans. There was a ceremony and a reception, but it was planned in like four months? I think my mom regrets not doing something fancier. Might be why she’s so angry.”

“That…makes some sense, I guess,” Chris agreed. “And your dad?”

“Is always like that,” you finished. “You know him. Don’t you remember when they used to help me move in and he’d get all huffy and silent because we didn’t prioritize unpacking the car with, you know, setting up the bathroom because I had to go.”

“Yeah, but it’s never been directed at me,” he sighed. “It’s…weird.”

“You get used to it,” you reassured. “He’ll be over it by the end of the day, probably.”

“Hopefully.”

The two of you sat there for a while, digesting lunch, and listening to the waves. Chris would push off with his foot every once in awhile, causing the swinging chair you were on to move.

The only reason the two of you moved (you’d have been perfectly content to sit there all day) was because your cousins, along with your sister, came out to inform you that they were going down towards the water to go play some games. They also told you that your brother was coming, and suggested that the two of you should too. You’d just glanced up at Chris, who shrugged and then nodded, and the two of you followed after them, hand in hand even though you couldn’t remember reaching for his hand in the first place. Once your brother had finally showed up, conveniently after you and your sister set up the volleyball net, the group split into teams to play volleyball.

The lot of you were out there for hours; it was only when your mother stood on the porch, yelling as best she could about dinner. Between the distance between where you’d set up and the house, and the ocean waves, it was near impossible to hear anything other than the faint noise of your mom, but you could assume what it was she was saying. After all the struggling you and your sister went through to untangle the volleyball net, you decided it’d be a waste of time to just take it down to put it up again. As you passed your mother on the porch, she told you it was probably going to blow away.

Dinner, blissfully, was a lot less tense than lunch had been. Your parents seemed a little more relaxed and receptive towards you and Chris, which was all you could really hope for. They definitely still weren’t happy (not that you expected them to be) but your mother wasn’t yelling and your father was actually saying words in place of grunting. It was almost normal. Your immediate family knew Chris only from the times you’d ask for them to help you move and a few times during the summer in college when Chris and Aaron came to visit. Your aunt, uncle and cousins knew of your roommate only through reputation (mostly stories you’d told them, but you had a sneaking suspicion your parents talked a good deal) so the dinner conversation was mostly directed towards him. You felt bad but every time you’d open your mouth to try to get them to leave Chris alone, he’d just smile and answer. Once in awhile, he even posed a question of his own.

By the time the two of you flopped into bed, you were both too exhausted from the constant questioning (and the way too intense game of volleyball) to worry about the fact that the two of you were sharing a bed. Chris wasn’t perched on the very edge of the mattress like he had been the night before, and you found yourself thinking about him being there less than you had when he was further away. In fact, you were too tired to do anything other than fall asleep.

The next few days were more of the same, minus the yelling, which you were thankful for. Your cousins seemed to love Chris because he was willing to put up with their antics. The twins had a particular knack for coming up with weirdly intricate games that your roommate blissfully went along with. After the third straight day of him disappearing with the twins (also dragging along your sister) to come back covered in sand and smelling vaguely of fire, you pulled him aside to tell him he didn’t have to put up with them. He just laughed and shrugged, telling you that he was actually having fun.

That night, your family filed out onto the porch after dinner. You pulled Chris onto the porch swing, your favorite spot to sit. Without any thought, he had slid his arm around your middle and you’d settled into his side, your head on his shoulder.

“You two are cute,” your sister mentioned, smiling over at the two of you from one of the nearby chairs. You chuckled embarrassedly, turning away from her to look at Chris’ face instead. He just grinned and glanced down at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back up at him. You had been really sure that, even though Chris was one of the people you were most comfortable with in the world, the whole pretending to be married thing was going to be weird. It had to be weird; not only were you pretending to be a couple, you were pretending to be married, which seemed like something else entirely. It was weird how easily it came to you to curl up to him, and how when your family asked you couple questions, it didn’t really feel like lying. It was like you were a couple.

“I always knew something was going to happen between you two,” your sister said knowingly, smirking a little.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, making a face at your sister.

“I mean, every time I’ve come to visit,” she started, laughing a bit. “He’d always wait until you weren’t looking and then give you this look like you were the sun. Plus, every time he got a new girlfriend, you’d just bitch to me about them every time you saw her,” she explained. “It was bound to happen.”

“I…guess,” you said slowly, feeling your cheeks burn as you tried your best to shift so you could hide it. It was true, you bitched to your sister when Chris’ girlfriends bothered you, but it wasn’t like you were jealous or anything like that. They were just annoying and awful.

“Just didn’t expect you guys to get married,” your sister said shortly. “Finally admit you’re in love, yeah. Get a puppy? Why not! But married. Have to say, [Y/N], you’ve still got some surprises in you even after the time you…”

“Hey!” you said quickly, sitting up. “I know where you’re going with this and you promised you’d never mention it to anyone.”

“Yeah but Chris is your husband,” she pointed out, motioning at Chris. He, at first, looked surprised but then began to nod vigorously.

“Shouldn’t you be telling him everything?”

“I think what I did the summer before college can stay between us and the police officer who let me go home,” you told her, giving her a warning look.

“Police officer?” Chris asked, looking excitedly from you to your sister and back. “Now I need to know.”

“No, you don’t!” you told him, glaring at your sister. She just laughed and leaned forward to whisper to Chris, “I’ll tell you about it later.” You opened your mouth to protest, and Chris laughed with your sister quickly joining in. You glared at them both, and before anything else could be said, your cousins were shoving their way into the small space you were occupying, dragging chairs over and passing along the brownies your mother had sent them with. You were happy for the full mouths so you knew your sister would keep quiet about things Chris didn’t need to know about. She had already blabbed about you not liking his girlfriends; you knew full well she could find something else to tell him to make it worse.

You’d forgotten about the earlier conversation by the time you got up to your bedroom. The thing about spending so much time with a large group of people under one roof was that you could have a week’s worth of stories happen between sunup and sundown. You could have a fight with your brother in the morning and by the time you got around to dessert, it felt like the fight happened a month ago. That was probably why when Chris got out of the shower, wearing a pair of pajama pants and no shirt (though the fact he wasn’t wearing a shirt definitely didn’t help) you’d forgotten completely about the conversation out on the porch. It was maybe why you were so thrown off when Chris cleared his throat and made the offhand comment.

“So, you hated all my girlfriends, huh?”

“What?” you asked confusedly, looking up from your phone (that you’d forced yourself to focus on instead of your roommate’s bare torso) to give him a bewildered look.

“What your sister said,” he prompted, looking over at you on the bed for a second before back to the suitcase he was digging through. “You complain to her about the girls I date.”

“Oh,” you said awkwardly. “Yeah…I guess. I don’t think it’s been all of them,” you added in an attempt to save face.

“I didn’t think…” he started, his sentence devolving into an awkward chuckle. You watched his hand fly to the back of his head; his tell that he was nervous.

“They annoyed the shit out of me,” you said, trying to remain as casual as possible. He gave you a confused look, sitting down in place of kneeling in front of his suitcase.

“Why?” he asked. “They all really liked you. I mean, there was the one who was weirded out we were living together but…” he trailed off.

“They were just…annoying, I don’t know,” you said, feeling suddenly defensive. “What does it even matter whether or not I liked them? You dated them anyway. And you broke up anyway. I don’t see why it matters that I found them annoying.”

“I never said it did!” Chris said quickly. “I was just wondering why you said stuff to your sister and not to me. You tell me when you don’t like people.”

“People, yeah,” you sighed. “Not the girls you’re dating.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’d be weird!”

“How would that be weird?” Chris asked seriously.

“Because,” you started, feeling your stomach twist uncomfortably. You knew full well that you had nothing but not so polite thoughts about those girls, but they made Chris happy and that was all you wanted for your roommate. You just feared that if you said anything, it’d mess things up for him, and you weren’t exactly sure how to tell him that. “I just…think it’d be weird.”

“That’s not an answer,” he sighed. “Neither is the fact you just magically found all of them annoying. You never even tried to get to know them. Every time they were over, you’d just hide in your room or magically have something to do that you never told me about. I don’t get why you wouldn’t just tell me.”

“I just…didn’t want to,” you said, shifting uncomfortably. “I didn’t feel like…” you trailed off, making a face and looking away from Chris. Your stomach was twisting and turning and not looking at Chris helped. It was weird and confusing and you didn’t like it. Chris sighed, and you heard him stand up and felt the bed dip under his weight a few seconds later.

“Hey,” Chris said quietly, “look at me.” When you didn’t immediately, he sighed. “[Y/N]. Come on.” You made a face before looking up at him to see that Chris looked less bewildered than he had a minute ago, and looked more concerned than anything else.

“Look, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things,” he told you. “Especially if it’s something like that. I trust your judgement on things and on people, you know. I didn’t mean to make you feel weird in your own home and if they ever did something shitty, I want you to tell me. If they’re not cool with you, then that’s a problem for me. You’re really important to me.”

That made your stomach twist even more uncomfortably, and you felt a strange flutter in your chest at the same time. You opened and shut your mouth repeatedly a few times, unsure of what to say. When you caught your roommate’s eyes, still full of concern, you felt both feelings even stronger and suddenly, you were overwhelmed. You shot up from the bed, looking away from Chris.

“I’m…still hungry,” you made up quickly, and without another word, you were flying through the bedroom door, closing it behind you and taking the stairs to the first floor two at a time. Once at the bottom of the stairs (after almost falling over because you jumped the last three and nearly lost your balance on the landing) you took a moment to take a couple deep breaths in order to calm yourself down. You weren’t exactly sure how to explain why you were so worked up, but you knew you had to be somewhere that wasn’t around your roommate. After standing at the foot of stairs for a few minutes, you decided to actually go into the kitchen. You weren’t sure if you actually wanted to eat something considering how your stomach was still in knots, but at least you could get some water. You meandered into the kitchen, deciding to keep the lights off, and opened the fridge.

“You’re up late,” said a voice, making you jump. You spun around to see your mom, slice of cake on a plate in hand, sitting on one of the island stools.

“And you’re just sitting in the dark,” you pointed out. “Also, apparently trying to give me a heart attack.”

“You’re the one that snuck up on me,” your mother retorted. “I just wanted some cake.”

“That…actually sounds pretty good.” You weren’t actually that hungry, but it sounded like a better idea than anything that you had in mind. Besides, if you ate cake instead of drinking water, it gave Chris more time to fall asleep, and then you could just go to bed when you got back upstairs. You’d left for a reason and if he was awake, you’d be walking right back into that uncomfortable conversation.

Your mother wordlessly handed you a slice of cake on a plate, and you went to the drawer for a fork. The two of you sat there in silence, eating cake in the dark. You were about halfway through the chocolate cake, wondering if you could just buy chocolate icing like the one on the cake to just eat out of the container, when your mother spoke.

“Was it worth it?”

You took a moment to swallow the cake in your mouth before answering. “Was what worth it, Mom?”

“The eloping. The not telling us you and Chris were dating for however long you were,” she clarified. The question elicited a sigh and you dropped your fork onto your plate. You weren’t going to get to enjoy your cake with where the conversation was going.

“It wasn’t like that, Mom,” you told her. “And you know that, whether or not you want to admit it. It wasn’t like I was trying to ruin the family or anything like that. It was…weird with me and Chris at first. I spent a long time convincing you all that he and I were just friends, and we were freaked out that it was happening and worried about it going wrong and ruining our friendship that we didn’t exactly want to tell everyone else so that they could ask us about it for the rest of our lives. We just wanted to be sure of things and by the time we were, it didn’t seem sensible to wait anymore.”

There was a long pause, the silence only punctuated by the sound of your mother’s fork scraping the plate.

“Are you happy?” your mother asked quietly.

You didn’t even have to think about the response. “I am,” you told her instantly.

That wasn’t even remotely a question; you were always happiest when you were spending time with Chris. That was, perhaps, most of the reason you were dragging your feet about moving into your own apartment. The two of you weren’t in college anymore, you were adults with proper jobs and you could both afford to live on your own. You knew, for sure, that you didn’t want to. You loved coming home to apartment that wasn’t empty, and there wasn’t anyone you’d rather spend time with than Chris. He was easily one of your best friends and he always knew how to cheer you up. Being around him just made you feel better and you never wanted to not have that in your life.

“Alright,” was all your mother had to say on the matter. She put her dish in the sink, mumbling about how you should do the same and she’d deal with them in the morning. She bid you goodnight, kissed your head and made her way out of the kitchen, leaving you alone. You finished your cake in silence, thinking about how easily the whole speech you’d just given your mother had come to you. Even though you and Chris spoke about what you’d say countless times, what you’d said wasn’t what the two of you decided on…or it was, but it felt weirdly personal. It felt like something you actually meant and that feeling of discomfort showered over you again. You tried to shake it from your mind while you finished your cake, but the thought of you and Chris actually being a thing just continued to make its way to the forefront. That, coupled with the nagging question of why it was that you were so annoyed by Chris’ former girlfriends and why you couldn’t tell him that you had been in the first place, was making for a strange feeling you couldn’t make any sense of. In an attempt to get your mind off it, you took it upon yourself to wash the dishes you and your mother had used, leaving them and the now-cleaned forks on the drying rack.

When you got back upstairs, you were relieved to see that Chris was asleep; you’d hoped that would be a case. Not feeling quite tired yet, you pulled fresh clothes out of your suitcase and headed for the shower. You stayed in there until the hot water was gone, gave your best attempt at drying your hair without waking your roommate up, and resigned yourself that it was time to get some sleep. Tonight, you were the one perched on the edge of the bed, facing away from Chris. It took a little while to quiet your brain enough to sleep but blissfully, you did drift off.

In the morning, you found yourself sleeping in the middle of the bed and it took you a minute to realize that one, Chris should have been there but two, he wasn’t. You groggily looked towards the bathroom to see if he was in the shower, but the door was open. You sighed heavily, deciding to lay there for a while before getting out of bed. Not long after, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in!” you shouted, punctuating your sentence with a loud yawn. The door creaked open and your sister stuck her head in.

“Hey, if you ever plan on getting out of bed, we’re going into town for brunch,” she told you. “Mom told me to come check to see if you were coming.”

“Sure,” you sighed, stretching out. “Have you seen Chris?”

“Yeah he went out with the rest of the guys this morning,” she told you. “Well, guys and our cousin who seems to love fishing. Or she enjoys beating her brothers at things.” You shot straight up instantly.

“He went out? On the boat?”

“Yeah,” your sister chuckled. “It’s not like they’re going to take him to international waters and then dump his body. Relax, [Y/N].”

Not that you didn’t trust Chris, but you had a feeling he’d be asked a lot questions while he was (trapped) on the boat with your father and the rest of the scary members of the family. You’d feel a lot better about things if you were there too. Or if neither of you were there at all.

“You say that like it wouldn’t cross their minds,” you said warily, flopping back down on the bed. You didn’t like it, but you couldn’t get him off the boat either. “I’ll be downstairs in ten,” you told her, yawning.

“You’d better. Mom wants to leave by 11.”

You laid there for a minute or two longer, wishing Chris would have woken you up before he left. You’d have talked him out of going on the trip, which would have been better for your mental wellbeing. You were going to go insane until they were back on land. Still, you pulled yourself out of bed, threw on a sundress and did the best you could with your hair in a short amount of time. By the time you got downstairs, your mother had that impatient look on her face. Everyone else was milling around the entranceway, clearly waiting for you.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you sighed, “I had to get dressed.” You glanced at the phone in your hand, checking the time and holding it out your mother. “And it’s only 10:45,” you added triumphantly. Your mother just rolled her eyes but chuckled, and led the way out to the car. You all piled in, and you were glad you didn’t have to fight to not have a window seat. There were enough spots in the car for all of you without someone having to sit bitch. The car ride into town was the only bad part of the beach house. If you wanted to go anywhere, it took about a half hour by car to get to a business. By the time you guys reached the diner, brunch was almost over.

“God forbid we actually just have lunch,” your sister whispered, laughing quietly in response to your mother’s comment. You laughed along with her and the two of you piled into one side of a booth and your mother and aunt piled into the other side. The lone waitress in the place came by to take your order, and once she had, the conversation quickly turned to how you all thought the fishing trip was going. The invitation was never formally extended to any of you, but you also knew full well that you’d never take it if it was. Fishing wasn’t your thing.

“How do you think Chris is doing?” asked your aunt. You shrugged, taking a sip of the drink the waitress had brought for you.

“I have no idea,” you told her. “We’ve never really talked about fishing. I don’t think it’s quite his thing. I’m still not convinced they’re not taking him out there to murder him.”

“I mean, our dear brother certainly suggested it,” your sister informed, “But Dad actually likes Chris. He was just glad you didn’t marry the other one.”

“The other one?” you asked, squinting at her.

“Whichever other one helped you move into the house when you were in college,” she explained. You stared at her for a second before it dawned on you who she was talking about. You burst into laughter, shaking your head.

“Aaron?” you laughed, “you couldn’t pay me enough money in the world. I love him, but I could never. But at least it’s good to know that Dad likes Chris.”

To be perfectly fair, you’d thought about it once when you couldn’t sleep and you couldn’t even imagine it. That same night, however, you’d definitely considered dating Chris, and at first, the idea had been weird, but it slowly made more and more sense to you. Even during college, you two were closer with each other than anyone else in the house, and he always had that boyish charm to him. You’d decided could do a lot worse than Chris Demarais. You weren’t interested in him like that, but it had been fun to think about for a few minutes.

It was also fun to pretend, you had to admit. If you had to pretend to be married to anyone, Chris had turned out to be the best possible choice. You were still amazed that he’d stood up to your mother that first night. He could have just let her yell, but he’d stood up for you and it was sweet. You felt a rush of affection towards your roommate as you remembered it. You’d been so frazzled by the yelling that you didn’t really think about what Chris had done, but now, you were so thankful. You’d let him know you owed him (even more) when you saw him next.

“Since we’re talking about Chris,” your aunt started, a smirk growing on her face, “tell me, [Y/N]. How did he ask you to marry him?”

“Oh,” you said, taken aback. You shifted in your spot in the booth, taking time to figure out how to word it. You and Chris were on the same page about this much. Still, you’d feel better if he were with you when you told people.

“Oh?” asked your mother, raising an eyebrow.

“I only just realized we haven’t told the story yet,” you chuckled, shifting in your spot. “It wasn’t anything grandiose. We were on a date and we were talking about how we’d been wasting time. He was the one who brought it up and after I agreed with him, out came the ring. And the rest is history.”

“That’s it?” Your sister looked at you, seemingly a little disappointed.

“That’s it,” you answered. “It was perfect for us. It didn’t have to be proposing at a baseball game to be the right thing.”

“I guess that explains the courthouse,” sighed your sister. “God, [Y/N] can you at least try to be less boring?” You opened your mouth to retort, feeling indignant about your fake proposal. It sounded perfectly fine to you. You weren’t a fan of being the center of attention.

“But,” your mother started, giving your sister a warning look before turning back to you. “Your father and I have been talking. And I know we were going to wait until tonight to tell you but now is as good a time as any. We’re going to pay for a reception for the two of you.”

“You’re what?!” You exclaimed, shaking your head a little. “Mom, no. It’s fine. We don’t want to spend a lot of money on some dumb party no one actually wants to go to anyway.”

Your heart was pounding; you could feel it in your mouth. That was…not good. That was the exact opposite of good. The whole point was to act like a married couple while at the beach house, but when you went back to Austin, that was supposed to go away. You were going to back to just being friends and figure out later how to tell your family you’d broken up later. Now, you had to figure a way out before your parents threw the reception. It’d more than likely break their hearts all over again. You were not looking forward to that.

“It’s not some dumb party,” your mother said sternly. “And it’s not up for debate. You can take the ceremony from us, but you will take the reception too.”

“We didn’t take anything!” you exclaimed quickly. “Just let it go, Mom. We don’t want to have a reception. We didn’t want a big wedding. It’s a waste of money and neither of us think it’s necessary.”

“Are you paying for it?”

“No.”

“Then you don’t exactly get a say, do you?” Your mother had that look on her face you associated with her thinking she’d won an argument. You looked from her to your aunt, who just nodded knowingly, to your sister, who wasn’t making eye contact.

“We’re having it in Austin,” you said shortly, desperate to get a grasp on the situation. “If we’re doing it, we’re doing it on our terms. In our city.”

“We’ll discuss this later,” sang your mother, giving you a warning look. Nothing more could be said because as you opened your mouth to do so, the food arrived. Silence fell over the booth as the four of you began to eat, but your head was screaming. You might have been trying to look calm, but you were absolutely panicking. You hadn’t even figured out how you two were going to weasel your way out of the spot you were in, and your mom was adding barbed wire to the occasion. You just felt bad about Chris. He’d probably freak out more once he heard about it.

After lunch, you and your family members took to shopping in some of the shops in town. You found a new bathing suit, and a new shirt or two. At one point, you’d picked up a pair of sunglasses you thought would look good on Chris. You knew him to be someone who lost sunglasses constantly anyway, so you figured you’d buy them for him for when he inevitably lost the ones he’d brought with him. Your sister had cooed and made a big deal about it, making you blush as the woman at ringing you out smiled knowingly. Your aunt had wanted to stop in the small bookstore a few buildings away; she never brought enough books to keep her busy. It happened every year. The group of you eventually ended up in the grocery store.

“What’s Chris’ favorite thing to eat?” your mother questioned as you followed her down the produce aisle. You answered her instantly. You’d lived with him long enough that you knew his favorite everything, his morning routine, his drunk habits, and what he liked to do when he didn’t check to see if he was actually alone before assuming he was. There wasn’t a question about Chris that you couldn’t answer.

Well. Maybe there was one or two.

“Why do you ask?” you asked, grabbing some of your favorite fruit (that you know Chris liked too) and adding them to the cart that your mother was pushing.

“I figured it might be nice to make him feel welcome,” she said nonchalantly. “Especially…” she trailed off, making a hand motion to signify she was done speaking even if there was more to say.

“Especially after you screamed at him the first night?” you finished, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe,” she sighed, making a pained face. She seemed to feel bad about that night, and you were a little glad about that, as bad as that was. “You’re going to help me, right?”

“Help you?”

“Cook, dear,” your mother stated. “You should help me make the meal. After all, it is for your husband.”

“You’re right,” you muttered. “I guess I can help.” You weren’t exactly the best cook in the world, but maybe you’d pick something up from your mother while you were helping out. At least she’d save you from doing anything that’d completely ruin dinner. You followed her around, picking out the stuff you’d need to make dinner. Every once in awhile, she suggested another way to do something and you generally went with what she said; when it came to cooking, she certainly knew better than you.

When you all got back to the beach house, you went upstairs just to drop your shopping bags on the bed before joining your mother in the kitchen. Blissfully, your mother seemed to only want to give you the easier stuff to do, unsure if you could anything else. A part of you wanted to be insulted because you were an adult who could handle yourself in the kitchen, even if you weren’t the best. The other part of you was relieved she was doing all the hard work instead. It was in silence at first, and then you were asking cooking questions. Soon enough, the conversation was flowing and was thankfully more casual.

By the time you were almost done with dinner, the rest of the family was piling into the house. The noise level quadrupled as they all wandered through, and then heading upstairs to change. Once things had quieted down, Chris found his way into the kitchen. He looked a little worse for wear, pale and tired. He threw his arms around your waist, burying his face into your hair, sighing.

“How was fishing?” you asked, wiping the butter off your hands onto a napkin and then reaching up to pat Chris’ head. He groaned and pulled his face from your hair to instead rest his chin on your shoulder. You looked over at him to see him gazing back at you through sleepy eyes but it seemed to be affectionate all the same. You weren’t sure if he was just putting a show on for your mother, but it was making your stomach do somersaults again.

“I’m so tired,” he told you, and you could hear it in his voice. “Can we just go sleep for the next year?” You opened your mouth to respond, but your mother beat you to the punch.

“Not the next year,” she sighed. “But maybe an hour?” She looked over to the two of you, and a small smile spread across her face. “[Y/N], you can go ahead too. I can finish up dinner by myself.”

“If you’re sure,” you said, but you didn’t have to be told twice. Reluctantly, Chris let go of you and followed you out of the kitchen. The two of you made your way upstairs, and as soon as he was over the threshold, he was pushing your shopping bags off the bed and collapsing onto it.

“So, fishing went well, huh?” you asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He groaned again, and reached out for you. He grasped your arm and tugged you into laying down next to him and tucked his arm around you. You raised an eyebrow, still trying to ignore that feeling you seemed to get whenever one of you got like this. You’d always had weird boundaries but usually, it only happened on a couch; a bed was new. 

“They woke me up at four thirty in the morning,” Chris informed, “and I was on the damn edge the whole time. It seemed like your brother was going to murder me for a solid hour this morning.”

“That was what I was afraid of,” you muttered, bending your arm to be able to reach his head and stroke his hair. “But hey, you’re back on land now. And after dinner, we can just go to bed.”

“Promise?”

“I promise,” you told him, chuckling a little bit. The two of you fell silent, and you debated whether or not you should tell him about the reception your parents were insisting on throwing. In the end, it seemed like the best idea.

“So, not to freak you out,” you started, and Chris’ head perked up so he could better look at you. “But, uh. My parents are demanding we have a reception.” Your roommate grimaced, but he didn’t look surprised.

“I know,” sighed Chris. “Your dad told me during the middle of the trip. I thought your uncle was going to throw me overboard if I didn’t agree to it,” he added, laughing nervously.

“Sound about right for my family,” you grumbled. “Chris, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t sign up for that. Or half the shit that’s happened and I promise I’ll figure it out, okay?”

“It’s fine,” he told you.

“It’s fine?”

“It’s fine,” repeated Chris, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. You felt a girlish giggle bubble up from your stomach and pop out of your mouth as he did, and you were so confused but Chris seemed to just accept it. It was a nervous giggle, and he knew that, but you just hoped he didn’t know why you were nervous.

“You’re not upset?” you asked incredulously. He shook his head, letting it drop back down onto your shoulder.

“Nah,” your roommate told you. “Mostly because I’m too tired to care at the moment. And we can’t talk our way out of it right now anyway.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sighed, letting your eyes slip shut. You continued to play with his short hair, letting it tickle your fingertips. The two of you laid there for a while, and you were drifting off when he spoke again, bringing you back from the edge of sleep.

“Your dad asked if we got married because you were pregnant.”

Your eyes shot open, and you sat up and Chris slid off of your shoulder in the process. You stared down at him, panicked. “He what?!”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It was…terrifying. But I told him you weren’t, because you know, you’re not. Said we got married because we wanted to. He asked a bunch of questions after that but I guess once he was sure we didn’t get married because we’re having a baby or because I’m looking to ruin your life, he seemed happy. Said he was glad I wasn’t the other guy?” He gave you a confused look and you chuckled, laying back down. Chris slid his way back onto your shoulder, and your fingers went back to playing with his hair.

“Aaron,” you explained. “My sister told me the same thing before. It took me a while to realize who she meant.” He laughed, and his hold on you tightened for a moment.

“Could you imagine?” you chuckled. “Me and Aaron?”

“Not sure I want to,” muttered your roommate, burying his face in your neck, squeezing you tighter for a moment. Your laughter died down, and you tried to look at your roommate but the way he was laying made it impossible to get a good look at his face from that angle.

“Yeah?” you asked, hand stilling on his head.

“Just weird,” Chris muttered, frowning. “Dunno. Can’t really see the two of you together.”

“Neither can I,” you told him, a little confused at his sudden tone change. “Aaron’s not exactly my type. You know that.” He looked up at you, and his expression seemed to soften. It made you feel strange, the way your roommate was looking up at you, but it was better than him being weird about something that certainly wasn’t ever going to happen.

“Yeah,” he sighed, shuffling a little closer to you. “I’m just tired,” added Chris. “Think I’m going to nap until dinner.”

“Okay,” you said, letting your eyes slide shut. You figured, considering that Chris was laying on you that you weren’t going anywhere either. You could use a little bit of sleep yourself, but you also had something to overthink in your mind and that was all you were doing. Chris had seemed too disgruntled at the thought of you and Aaron (a thought you couldn’t stomach for more than a few seconds. You were friends, but if you were anything more, you’d probably end up killing him sooner or later) and you weren’t sure why. Chris would know better than anyone if you and Aaron would work, and not only did your roommate not think so, the idea seemed to offend him. Maybe he was just one of those people who didn’t want to become the third wheel. You’d had friends who’d started dating and suddenly you felt out of place when all three of you hung out.

There was that little voice in your head saying that there was another reason why Chris would be upset about the idea of you and another man. It didn’t exactly help that Chris was one, currently using you as a body pillow, or two, that you were suddenly so very aware of your roommate. The fact you were pretending to be a married couple, coupled with the fact with the fact the two of you spent so much time talking about your relationship before you got to the beach house also wasn’t helping silence that voice in your head. There had to be a reason, it was telling you, why pretending and being so affectionate with him came so easily. There had to be a reason that…

A knock on the door shook you from your thoughts, and Chris gave a indistinct grumble in response to it.

“Mom says dinner’s ready!” Your brother’s voice was muffled through the door he didn’t bother to open, but you’d still heard him clearly enough.

“Be down in a minute!” you called back. You tap Chris’ head gently. “Come on, we have to wake up and go downstairs.”

“No,” mumbled Chris, tightening his grip on your waist. “Not hungry.”

“Yeah well, we have to go,” you chuckled. “My mom and I made your favorite food so if you don’t go down, I wasted my time and you insult my mother. And you’re trying to make her love you like a son.”

“You cooked?” he asked, his eyes fluttering open and a smirk spreading across his face. “I didn’t know you could actually do that,” he teased, chuckling a little. You rolled your eyes but chuckled too. After a minute, Chris sat up, letting go of you entirely and sliding off the bed. You watched him stretch before getting out of bed yourself, and running your hand through your hair as you caught sight of it in the mirror.

“If you don’t believe me, you’ll have to go downstairs and taste it for yourself,” you told him, sticking your tongue out at him for a brief moment.

“I cannot wait to see this,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you make something more than pasta unless you were desperate.”

“I can cook!” you defended, “Not as well as my mom but I’m decent still.”

“I’m sure,” he said, giving you a warm smile. “Now let’s go before I insult your mother and never have her love me like a son.” You rolled your eyes at him, but chuckled as you followed him out of the bedroom and down into the dining room where the rest of the family was waiting for the two of you.

Chris certainly hadn’t expected as much in the way of dinner, but what you and your mother had managed to pull off seemed to impress him. He’d gotten to take all of his food first (since he was, in all technicalities, the guest of honor) and he’d erred on the side of not insulting your family by taking a hefty amount of food. You had to admit, even after you’d taken your own food, you still waited and watched to see if he actually liked what you had (partially) cooked for him. You felt a rush of pride as you watched Chris take his first bite, and a look of enjoyment showed up on his face. You smiled as he looked over at you, feeling a little giddy as you locked eyes.

“It’s delicious,” informed Chris, looking over to your mother.

“Thank you, dear,” said your mother graciously, “but most of the credit goes to your wife.” You opened your mouth to protest because you’d really only watched her do the hard work, but Chris had just turned towards you, smiling.

“It’s really great,” he told you. Before you answer him, he leaned over to press an affectionate kiss to your cheek and added a quiet ‘thank you.’ You giggled quietly, though you weren’t sure why, and you smiled a little bit wider.

After a surprisingly delicious dinner, Chris insisted on doing the dishes, and eventually, your mother agreed to let him help load the dishwasher. You and your brother, in the meantime, began to compile the needed components of s’mores. Your mother lamented that you were setting up so soon after dinner, but your brother pointed out that it was going to take forever to get the bonfire to burn properly. It made more sense to not leave the fire, on the beach, unattended to collect s’mores necessities. That seemed to be acceptable to her, and on your way out of the kitchen, you shouted to Chris to bring a blanket when he joined you on the beach, just in case it got too chilly.

By the time the rest of your family, sans the parents, were making themselves comfortable in the sand, or on a log your brother had left out to sit on, the fire was really starting to burn. Chris was the last one out, giant blanket in hand. He plopped himself down next to you, setting the blanket next to him, and looked over at the fire.

“So, how was alone time with our mother?” asked your sister teasingly. Chris chuckled awkwardly, hand shooting up to the back of his head.

“She, uh, really likes getting to the nitty-gritty of things, doesn’t she?” Chris responded. You looked at him questioningly, slight concern flashing in your eyes, and he just shook his head. You took that to mean there wasn’t anything to worry about.

“That she does,” sighed your brother. “There were never any secrets in our household. Can’t get a damn thing past her.” You wanted to laugh at that; you looked down to your wedding ring and knew that to be a lie. Then, you felt a wave of guilt about the whole thing, and tried to focus on your s’more making instead.

“I’m not surprised,” Chris said, “She wanted to know where I thought was going to be good for the anniversary party.”

“Anniversary party?” you asked dumbly.

“Yeah, the thing Mom told you about at lunch,” your sister reminded.

“Mom told?!” your brother interjected, hand stilling from stripping the bark from the last of the marshmallow sticks. “Dad’s in the clear, then.”

“Did you actually believe either of them would keep their mouths shut?” Your sister laughed as she stared at your brother.

“No,” he replied. “But still.”

Sticks were passed out, and when Chris was handed the bag of marshmallows, he put one on your stick first before putting one on his own. You smiled at him, sliding closer to him to press a kiss to his cheek. He got that dopey grin on his face that always made your heart feel suddenly light; it was just too cute and it wasn’t fair that he could look like that.

“You two are gross,” informed your female cousin, shaking her head at you as she shoved her marshmallow straight into the hottest part of the bonfire.

“Of course we are,” you said as you stuck your own marshmallow near the flame. “We’re married.” It was strange how natural that felt now. It just rolled off the tongue and always elicited a smile. You were starting to believe it wouldn’t be so bad being married after all, especially to Chris.

The first set of s’mores turned out fine. Your marshmallow was a little overcooked, as was to be expected when you stop paying attention to shoot all kinds of questions at your cousins. Your female cousin was starting her senior year of high school in your old home town, and the twins were starting the eighth grade. You asked about their teachers, curious to know who was still there, and stopped paying attention to the sugary blob on the end of your stick. By the time you realized that it was there, it was beyond crispy. You used it for a s’more anyway, even if you complained about the taste the whole time.

The second s’more got dropped as you were trying to slide the marshmallow, toasted to perfection, off the stick. Whining about sand getting into it, Chris had offered you a bite of his instead. You happily took it, laughing at the marshmallow strings that were attached to both the s’more in his hand and your lips. You licked your lips in an attempt to clean them, and you could have sworn you saw Chris watching with a look on his face. By the time you got a good look at him, he wasn’t facing you anymore.

You guys sat out there well through the end of the bag of marshmallows, talking happily as the fire died down. Your brother tried to tell a trademark scary story (that wasn’t actually scary) but it failed to do anything except give the rest of the group ammo to mock him. He was the first to leave, in a huff, causing the rest of you to laugh. The twins were gone not long after, talking about something they had to do in the house. You were worried what that could possibly be. Your sister decided to call it a night when the fire became half its size. It had always been your brother’s job to take care of the fire, and considering the fact he was gone, no one had added more wood. In the meantime, you and Chris had thrown the blanket around the two of you because you’d complained about being cold and the obvious couple thing to do was to cuddle under the blanket. Your cousin, the last person besides you two to stick it out, threw some more firewood into the mix before going inside so you two could have more time to sit around and, in her words “be gross.”

You and Chris sat there for a while, your head on his shoulder while his arm slid around your waist to get more comfortable under the blanket. You held one side, and he the other, meeting somewhere in the middle to burrito as much as possible. As the fire grew bigger, however, you let go of your side, instead letting it drape over your shoulder and keep you from overheating. You began to fidget with your wedding ring, a new habit of yours, smiling down at it.

“It’s not so bad,” you stated.

“What’s not so bad?” Chris asked, looking over from the fire to your hand, watching you spin the ring instead.

“Being married,” you explained. “At least, being married to you isn’t so bad. I don’t mind it as much as I thought I would.”

“Wow, thanks,” laughed your roommate, giving you a look and shaking your head. You laughed too, throwing your arms around him to squeeze him tightly.

“That’s not what I meant!” you exclaimed loudly, “You know what I meant!”

“I do, I do!” he laughed, “relax.”

It was then you noticed how close your faces were. You’d been this close to your roommate before for various reasons. One of which was putting makeup on him, and you’d noticed then, for the first time, how nice his eyes were. You couldn’t help but appreciate them now, watching the flames dance in their reflection. Chris’ laughter died down, and he looked suddenly very serious.

“Hey, [Y/N],” Chris started, voice barely above a whisper. “C-can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” you said, smiling slightly in an attempt to encourage him. “What’s up?”

He was silent for a while, and the two of you continued to stare at each other in the meantime. Neither of you wanted to break eye contact it seemed. It interested you to watch Chris’ facial expressions change; they were subtle but from that close up, you saw the brow furrow, the slight frown, and then watched the deep breath.

After what seemed like an entirety, Chris finally spoke.

“[Y/N], I love you.”

There was an audible hitch in your breathing as his words hit your ears. You stared at Chris, mouth agape, as you tried to process what your roommate had just told you. He stared back at you, a slight hopeful smile on his face while he waited for an answer. 

 

You couldn’t quite believe what you’d just heard. Of all the things you’d figure you would hear from him, that hadn’t exactly been on the list. It wasn’t even something you’d imagined, and you’d actually thought about the eventuality of Chris wanting to date one of the girls you knew from work and had introduced him to. But no, he wanted you and you couldn’t quite believe that. Once you were over the initial shock, your brain was going a million miles a minute. 

 

Chris had just told you he loved you.

 

And, once it sank in, you realized how okay with it you were.

 

“[Y/N],” Chris started, sounding nervous, but before he could say anything more, you were moving your hands from around his middle. You grabbed his face in your hands and brought your lips to his. 

 

Kissing Chris seemed to be one of those things that slowed time; at least, it felt that way to you. The crackling of the bonfire and the crashing of the waves both seemed so distant as you focused on nothing else but the feel of his lips on yours. At first, Chris seemed to be taken off-guard, but as soon as you considered moving away, his hand was finding his way to your hair. You had no idea how long it lasted, but when the two of you finally pulled apart, foreheads resting against each other, you were both panting for breath.

“I never said I thought it’d be bad,” you told him, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “I just…thought it was going to be weird, you know? You’re…Chris and I’ve known you for forever and we’ve never kissed and it’s…”

“Not so bad,” he finished, leaning forward to give you a quick peck. You smiled fondly at him, unable to help it even if you wanted to.

“It’s a lot more than not so bad.”

The two of you sat down there, mumbling sweet nothings in-between kisses, still snuggling under the blanket. You stayed until the fire had just about burned itself out, and it got far too dark to sit down on the beach without it. You took the bucket of water your brother left near his log to pour on the almost dead fire, fully extinguishing it. Hand in hand, blanket thrown over Chris’ shoulder, the two of you headed back up to the house. Your cousins were still sitting in the living room, playing a card game you’d never seen. One look told you that Chris just wanted to go upstairs and you wished your cousins sweet dreams before letting him lead to towards the bedroom. Chris pressed a kiss to your temple before letting go of your hand, and you decided that you were going to shower to try to get the firewood smell out of your hair.

You took your time in the shower, letting the hot water chase out the chill that had seeped into your bones when you were outside. Your mind was still going at a mile a minute. It was like you’d been working on a puzzle and you’d found the piece that led you solving the whole damn thing.

Chris was in love with you.

Chris was in love with you, and you were relieved to know that. All the weird feelings you’d had floating around you for not just the past couple of weeks, but for years, seemed to sort themselves into place. You’d been feeling weird about the fact things seemed to go so naturally because they weren’t fake. Not only were they not fake, they also weren’t one sided. Chris liked being close to you and you liked being close to him. Hell, even why you didn’t like your roommate’s girlfriends made a lot more sense than just because you were annoyed with them. You knew why you were annoyed by them. You’d always felt a sort of possessiveness over Chris, as stupid as it seemed, but you could finally admit you were jealous. It was weird, but it was also like taking a giant weight off your shoulders.

After you hopped out of the shower, you did what you could with your hair as quickly as you could. You pulled on your clothes, excited to share your new revelation with Chris. He was sitting with his back against the headboard, busy with his phone. You beamed at him, and when he looked up and saw you, he smiled back. You shuffled over to your side of the bed and jumped on, sliding right up to him and grabbing his face again. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but when you pulled him into a kiss, Chris was quick to respond, tossing his phone aside so his hand could find your damp hair. When you pulled away, you were still smiling.

“Chris?” you said softly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you too.”

Instead of answering, Chris just broke out into a smile, pulling you close to kiss you again. The first of the kisses were short and sweet; exactly what you’d expect from your roommate. You were taken slightly by surprise when you felt him nip at your bottom lip. You gasped involuntarily against his lips, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth to find yours. Your tongues danced around each other, taking your time to explore. It had taken so long to get to that point, and there wasn’t going to be any rushing now. You wouldn’t be satisfied until you knew every inch of him.

You let your hands fall from his face and wander down his chest, fingers toying with the waistband of his pants. His breathing hitched as you hooked a few fingertips around the elastic, but before you could get any further, a loud noise on the other side of your door caused you to jump and pull apart. Your twin cousins sounded like they were fighting near the outside of your door, and a few seconds later, their mother sounded, yelling at them for waking her up.

“Probably…not the best time,” you muttered, blushing slightly as you pulled your hand back from the waistband of his pants.

“Yeah,” he agreed, sounding a little disappointed. He leaned forward to give you a quick peck on the cheek. “Probably get some sleep then,” he added. “We were coming back to bed after dinner, remember?”

“Oh no,” you half-whined. “I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. There were s’mores,” you explained. “And I’m very food-orientated.”

“I know,” Chris laughed, giving you an affectionate look. “It was probably better for us both anyway that we didn’t go right to bed.”

“I’d say so.”

Chris suggested actually going to sleep that time around, and you agreed. The longer you sat still, the more tired you felt. It had been a long day, and even longer one for Chris. You could both benefit from some sleep. You slipped out of bed to turn the light off, and when you found your way back, you took your usual position in the bed, but it seemed that your roommate wasn’t having that. His arms found their way around your waist, like they had done early, and you cuddled up next to him. It felt pretty perfect, and it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep in his arms.

You awoke from a particularly steamy dream hours later, panting slightly and feeling hot all over. You threw the blanket off of you, desperate to try and cool yourself down. It had been a long time (well, not that long) since you’d had anything other than a perfectly innocent dream and you were glad to see, at least, you’d had it alone. Chris wasn’t lying next to you. You were definitely relieved about that.

“You sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

You sat up a little to see Chris, hair wet from the shower, looking at you from his place by the closet door. He was once again shirtless (God, did he ever actually bring a shirt in with the rest of his clothes when he showered?) wearing a smirk by the closet door.

“What?” You asked, trying to seem as casual as possible but it was taking a while to steady your breath. Your heart still felt like it was going a mile a minute.

“Moaning,” he stated, “and an awful lot of it. I’m just glad we’re the only ones here. You’re not quiet in bed. Never were though.”

“How would you know?” You shot at Chris and he rolled his eyes, chuckling.

“We’ve lived together for almost a decade,” he pointed out. “Try as you do to not have sex while I’m home, it’s happened a few times.” There was a moment’s pause as you tried to forget what he’d just said to you. You shut your eyes to block out his smirking face, the one you’d seen in your dream, front and center only to be met with the image of your roommate between your legs, like he had been in your dreams.

“So,” he said, and you get the bed dip under his weight as he sat at the foot of the bed. “Want to talk about it?” You opened your eyes to look at him, panic flashing across your face and shaking your head.

“Come on,” he groaned. “At least tell me who was there!” Once again, you shook your head and you couldn’t help the blush spreading across your cheeks. You were looking straight at who was there, and he was so close to where he’d been in your dream, you almost wanted to reach out and pull him down to where he belonged.

“Was it me?” Chris guessed. When the blush on your face got deeper and you didn’t correct him, he let that wicked smirk, the one that seemed to be driving you crazy at the moment, slide back into his face. You could feel yourself getting wet at the sight and you were desperate not to admit to a thing; it was embarrassing but god, you wanted it to be real. Maybe it could be, you told yourself. You just had to tell him.

“Was I good, at least?” He asked curiously. “Judging by the moans, I’d say so but…” he trailed off, looking at you for an answer. Your mouth went totally dry and all you could do in response was nod.

“Yeah?” He perked up a little at the affirmation. “And what was I doing to make you feel so good, [Y/N]?”

You thought about telling him; maybe he’d go down on you if you told him. You were so aware of how wet you were and how much your clit ached and you just wanted to go get off in private so you could just move on with your day but Chris was sitting at the edge of the bed with a look on his face that made you wetter, if that was humanly possible.

“I’d be more than happy to do it, right here, right now,” your roommate informed, “but you have to tell me.”

Fuck.

You opened your mouth to tell him but it took a minute before you uttered a quiet “going down on me.”

“Fuuuck,” Chris breathed, eyes darting from your face down to your currently clothed core, and he shifted slightly. “Don’t mind if I do.” He reached up towards your waist, hooking long fingers around the waistbands of your shorts and your underwear and tugged downward. You instinctively lifted your hips up, shimming slightly to help him get them down past your knees and them off entirely. He dropped them next to the bed, eyes fixating between your legs with a look on his face that made you think he’d definitely thought about this once or twice as well. Your arousal was only getting more noticeable as you saw Chris so close to where he’d been in your dream, making you shiver in anticipation. The look on his face went straight between your legs. It was in that moment you were sure he had thought about his head between your legs too and it made you tingle.

Chris reached out, brushing your clit with the pad of his index finger experimentally, making you jerk and forcing an involuntary moan from your lips. He smirked again, glancing up at your face. “God, I love that sound,” he groaned, putting his hand on either one of your hips and pulling you closer to him. “Don’t you dare try to keep quiet.”

With that, Chris ducked down, and his tongue darted out to brush against your clit the way his finger had and you moaned again, but the volume doubled the second he’d wrapped his lips around it, sucking greedily. He continued to alternate between sucking and long, slow licks over the sensitive nub and down towards your dripping center. He seemed perfectly content to take his time with you, savoring the chance to watch the way you twitched and when he got close to where you where you wanted his tongue.

“Fuck,” you whined, starting to pant again. “Chris, please. Fucking just…” you trailed off, unable to finish your thought as his lips returned to your clit, and he slid his finger into you. That was enough to short circuit your brain and all you could do was moan as he moved at a torturously slow pace in and out of you. You let your head fall back onto the pillow and your eyes slide shut as Chris began to pick up the pace, sliding another finger into you. He was certainly taking his time to enjoy you, but you needed it. You could feel that tightening in your stomach and the heat and he wasn’t giving you enough. You needed more.

“Please, please, please,” you said quickly, “fuck, Chris, just make me come, please.” The last word turned into a whine as he pulled away from you entirely, stopping his hand, curling his fingers inside you, eliciting a particularly loud moan from you.

“You taste even better than I thought you would,” he panted, his face slick with your juices. The sight was incredibly arousing, him between your legs and covered in you and you couldn’t help but move your hips to try and relieve the tightness you were feeling. He just watched greedily as you fucked yourself on his fingers, smirking.

“I’m getting so close,” you told him pleadingly, voice coming out high-pitched and breathy. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten again as he flexed his fingers, brushing up against a spot that made you see stars. “Just make me come. God, I need to come all over your face.” Chris chuckled darkly and fuck, that was hot.

“Sounds like a good time to me,” he muttered. “I’m going to make you come so hard,” he added, rubbing his thumb against your clit, making you whimper. You’d know Chris long enough to know he wasn’t as innocent as he came off, but fuck he was good with his mouth. Better than you could have hoped for, and the teasing was just unfair.

He ducked back down, taking the same long licks he’d been before, swirling his long tongue around every time he reached the sensitive nub. After the third time, punctuated by your hips attempting to move in time with the thrusts of his fingers while also trying to position yourself to get your tongue right where you wanted it, he finally closed his lips over it again. You cried out in pleasure, and reach down to hold his head right where it was. He seemed to take the hint because his efforts doubled, his fingers moving faster as you grinded against his face.

“Chris,” you moaned, “fuck, Chris I’m so close please please please fuck,” you repeated as you felt your orgasm approach. You continued to chant a chorus of his name and ‘fuck’ and ‘please” over and over again as you closed your legs, desperate to keep him there. You were so close. The tightness was getting torturous and you needed to get off, right then and there.

And one particular curl of the fingers made you topple over the edge, moaning your roommate’s name loudly. You squeezed your legs tight around his head as you came and he sucked and licked eagerly, helping you ride out your orgasm as best he could. It was only when your legs untensed and you let go of his head that Chris slid his fingers out of you, panting as he pulled away from you, smiling slightly.

“As good as your dream?” Chris questioned, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“So much better,” you hummed, smiling sleepily up at him.

“Better than I ever thought it’d be too,” he admitted. “Never thought I’d get to do that. My name sounds so nice coming out of your mouth.”

“Yeah?” You smirked. “I think you’ll get to hear it some more.”

“I’d better.”

Chris crawled his way up from between your legs to hover above you, taking a moment to stare down at you, and you looked back up at him, smiling as you tried to catch your breath. You reached out to pull him down and he came down to meet your lips willingly, and you could taste yourself on him. The taste as your tongue found its way into his mouth as you tugged him a little closer made you smirk against him. It gave you some sort of satisfaction as he eased down on top of you to get closer to know it was you that’d caused the hardon that he had and was now pressing against your leg. You shifted slightly to get more comfortable, causing Chris to moan loudly into your mouth. With a bit of effort, you broke the kiss to smirk up at him, snaking your hand between your bodies to find its way to his waistband. With no one in the house to worry about, you didn’t think twice about shoving your hand into his pants. Chris let out another moan as your hand closed around his dick, and you could feel yourself getting excited at the sight of him, eyes closed and mouth hanging open slightly as you started to move your hand.

“Chris,” you said quietly. “If you move, I can show you my mouth is good at things other than making your name sound like a fucking prayer.” His eyes opened, and you could have sworn your saw his pupils dilate as he stared down at you. He seemed to be debating something in his mind, and you just laid there, biting you lip as you looked up at him, jerking him off as best you could in your current position.

“May—” His breathing hitched and the word died in his throat as your thumb swiped the head of his cock, but it only took him a moment to recover. “Maybe later,” he muttered. “Fuck, [Y/N], I need to be inside you, now. I’ve thought about it way too long.”

“Fuck,” you groaned, closing your eyes. “Chris…please.”

“Gladly,” he replied, bending down to kiss you quickly before disappearing entirely. Your hand slid out of his pants as he moved away and you turned to see what he was doing. Chris was in the process of trying to get his pants off, but had given up once they’d gotten around his knees, giving you a spectacular look at is ass. And god, was it a good ass. It was a shame you hadn’t seen it more, but you had all the time in the world to experience the new-found appreciation for your roommate’s ass. He fumbled around in his suitcase for a few seconds before you saw the distinctive flash of a foil wrapper. Chris kicked his way out of the rest of his pants and busied himself with opening the wrapper. Once he was completely naked, you’d realized that you were still wearing your shirt and made quick work of that, tossing it off to the side. When he turned back around, Chris seemed taken aback by the uninterrupted view of your breasts, but one longing look and lip bite told you he wasn’t complaining.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he informed, hand wandering down to his cock to stroke it lazily. While you were happy to watch him jerk himself off, mouth watering slightly at the sight, you were also far too aware of the aching between your legs to let it go on for too long.

“Well, I’m all yours whenever you’re done playing with yourself,” you pointed out, chuckling. “You’re the one who wanted to fuck me, so you’d better stop teasing me and do it.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Chris rolled on the condom before climbing back onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs. You wiggled your hips as he slid the head between your lips, but not giving you the satisfaction of fucking you already. You made a face, hips still moving as he watched you, smirking slightly. It took another couple seconds for him to stop teasing, but when he grabbed your hips, you stilled, closing your eyes as he lined up and pushed his hips forward. He groaned loudly, deeper than you’d expected as he slid slowly into you, taking his time as he seemed to like to do.

“Chris,” you half moaned, half whined. “Just…” you trailed off as he squeezed your hips tightly. He stilled entirely as his hips met yours, and he looked up to your face.

“I love you,” he mumbled as he bent down to kiss you again. You kissed him back happily, wiggling your hips a little to try and relieve any of the tightness you were feeling in your stomach. He was sweet, and you adored him for it.

“I love you too,” you responded once you’d pulled apart, “but right now, I really need you to fuck me.” He chuckled darkly, pressing another peck to your lips.

“I can do that,” he informed, gripping your hips again before almost entirely pulling out and then quickly thrusting back into you. You moaned in appreciation, finally feeling some sort of relief. His hips worked themselves into a quick rhythm, and you wrapped your legs around him, desperate to pull him closer. Your roommate ducked down to press kisses to your neck and nip at your collarbone sporadically, causing you to whimper and dig your nails lightly into his back. You could feel yourself getting close, and the way your stomach tightened every time his hips found yours again told you that you weren’t going to last long.

You couldn’t help the flurry of moans of his name or the “fucks” that spilled out of your mouth. You were only vaguely aware of your hips rocking to meet his as Chris kissed his way down your chest. His tongue darted out to swipe the sensitive nub and you cried out, digging your nails harder into his skin, eliciting a groan from him. One hand found its way to the other nipple to roll it between his fingertips while he closed his mouth around the other. All it took was a light graze of his teeth to make you cry out again, pushing you even further towards the edge than you already were.

“Chris, I’m getting close,” you informed, voice shaky. “Fuck, I really…I…” you trailed off, words rushing right out of your brain as the fingers that had been rolling your nipple between them almost lazily found their way to your clit. He rubbed tight circles against the nub, and it wasn’t long until you were gone again, moaning his name loudly. You tightened your legs around him, pushing him in as far as you could get him while he continued to play with you. His hip-movements turned sporadic as your walls tightened around him and it wasn’t long until his mouth was leaving your chest with the most sinful noise you’d heard, coupled with moans of his own. The two of you layed there for a moment, panting hard against each other, but then he slipped out of you. He’d plopped down next to you, arm coming around your waist to pull you close.

“Good thing you just showered, huh?” you panted, feeling his damp skin and looking over to see him covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

“You have really shitty timing for sex dreams,” he informed, laughing a little. “I’ll get back in before you. I don’t take as long as some people.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed, shaking your head at him. You leaned over to kiss him quickly before flopping back down onto your pillow. There was a moment’s pause before you added, “you know, you have a great ass.” Chris’ eyebrows shot upward.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you informed, nodding a little. “I’m going to need to see more of it. Honestly, I’m going to need more of all of this sooner or later.”

“I can get behind that idea,” he agreed. He rolled towards you, pressed a kiss to your presumably sweaty forehead, and sat up. “But I’m going to go shower so you can get in before your family comes back.”

“Where are they anyway?” you asked, wondering where exactly the entire rest of your family could have gone and just left you and Chris behind.

“Gillian’s?” he told you, sounding a little confused.

“Ugh,” you said immediately. “It’s this crappy little restaurant on the other side of town that I don’t understand why they like. All the food tasted like gym clothes every time I tried to eat there.”

“Glad I said no then,” sighed Chris as he stood up. “For more reasons than one.” You both laughed, and you reached out to playfully swat his ass. He smacked at your hand once you’d made contact, laughing a little bit harder. You watched as he headed for the bathroom, slipping the condom off as he went. You laid there for a couple minutes as you recovered, listening to the shower run. It wasn’t long before it’d turned off, and you swore to yourself, scrambling out to bed to grab clothes for yourself from the closet. You still felt a little like jello, but that was far from a bad thing and it just meant you’d have to take it slow. Chris reappeared, towel around his hips as you pulled out the last of your clothing, lopsided smile on his face as he caught sight of you.

“What?” you asked, giving him a look as you passed him to go into the bathroom.

“Just looking at how beautiful you are,” he informed, making you both smile and roll your eyes before shutting the door behind you.

As you were getting dressed after your shower, the idea hit you. If your family was going to go out for the day, you and Chris could as well. Once you were dressed, and your wet hair was (lazily) dealt with, you were popping out of the bathroom, and tugging Chris towards the door.

“We’re going out,” you stated, pulling him towards the stairs. He chuckled, squeezing your hand.

“That’s fine,” he answered, “but can I grab shoes first?” You stopped at the stairs, looking down to see that he wasn’t wearing shoes. You sighed in mock annoyance, letting go of his hand.

“I mean, I guess,” you said. “I’ll go find the keys for the rental in the meantime.” The two of you split, and you began your search for the keys by the front door. They weren’t on the table, nor in the drawer you’d assume keys would have gotten left. It took texting your brother to find out that he’d left the keys to the car (that he pointed out was rented in his name) in the dining room on the table. By the time you’d gotten the keys, Chris had reappeared, wearing shoes and the pair of sunglasses you’d bought him.

“I think these are mine?” Chris pointed out, pointing at the sunglasses he was wearing. “They definitely don’t look like yours but they’re not ones I remember bringing. Or ever seeing before.”

“I bought them for you,” you informed, laughing slightly. “And they look good.” He smiled, giving you a kiss before thanking you for them.

You rarely drove while on vacation, so it’d taken hooking your phone up to the Bluetooth so you could hear Google Maps direct you towards the restaurant you’d had in mind. It was your favorite place on the island, and you usually just ended up going with your brother and sister on the last day. You had Chris this time around, and he was generally better company than either or both of your siblings. When you’d pulled into the parking lot, you couldn’t help but beam. The place was a tiny café with a spectacular view of the water, and even when you got out of the car, you could feel the ocean breeze and suddenly, you felt far more at ease than you’d been lately. It’d also helped to know that, while you were still lying about the marriage bit, there was a real possibility that you wouldn’t be lying about being together much longer.

Once you and Chris had situated yourselves at a table on the outside patio, you’d started to worry about how to approach the topic. It was…sudden, perhaps, but considering how your morning had turned out, and considering the fact ‘I love yous’ had been exchanged, you felt it was relatively safe to bring it up. It almost seemed important to bring it up sooner rather than later. It just needed to be done and you weren’t going to feel better until you did it.

“So, can I ask a question?” You asked once the two of you had ordered. Chris raised an eyebrow and nodded.

“Can I guess what it is before you ask it?” he posed, and you rolled your eyes, smiling. Chris had a habit of being able to pinpoint where your head was before you could babble too much. It was both impressive and frustrating that your roommate knew you that well.

“I don’t think me saying no has ever stopped you before, Chris. Go for it!”

“You want to figure out where we stand now?” he guessed, and you nodded, laughing a little. Chris shrugged, shaking his head a little. “I mean, I know I didn’t say it but I figured I had made it clear a while ago where I stood.”

“Uh…” you muttered, screwing your face together as you tried to figure out what he meant. Your roommate just chuckled, reaching across the table to take your hands in his. He gave them a reassuring squeeze, thumb tracing your wedding ring.

“[Y/N], I figured out a while ago how I felt about you. Years ago, actually. And I never thought to say anything because you always seemed wrapped up in other things and other people, and I didn’t want to make things weird between us,” Chris explained, sporting one of the most serious looks on his face that you’d ever seen. “I know, wrong signals by dating other people, but I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for you to love me back.”

“That’s fair,” you sighed. “And I never would have wanted you to. I just…” you trailed off. “I don’t know, I wish you’d said something sooner?”

“I could have,” he agreed, nodding a few times. “But let me ask you this: how long until you figured it out for yourself?”

You paused, deflating a little. “I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for the last…three weeks or so? But there’s been signs, that I’ve been ignoring, for a lot longer than that?” you guessed. Chris chuckled, and you could sworn you heard a twinge of bitterness in it.

“Not that long,” he sighed.

“How long have I been missing something?” you asked nervously. Chris looked as if he was trying to decide if he was going tell you or not.

“About…five years?”

“Fuck,” you groaned. “Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he told you, “you had to figure things out for yourself and it was what it was. But we’ve figured it out now,” he pointed out, smiling. “And we’ll take it from here?”

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“And neither am I,” Chris told you. “If I was going to, I think I’d have done it already.”

Words couldn’t fully describe how much better you felt as the two of you slid back into your seats, letting go of the other’s hand to make room for the food that had reached the table. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders to understand all those weird flutters Chris had been giving you for years. It was also a comfort to know that you weren’t going to just come home one day to find a strange girl you’d maybe heard about once on your living room couch. Now, it was you and Chris and that seemed so right to think about, and you were kind of mad that you’d taken that long to reach the point you were finding yourself in now. If you’d taken your flutters seriously in the first place, maybe you’d actually be married to Chris by now. You wouldn’t have to have lied to your entirely family for a week. Still, the only thing you could do was look ahead and things were looking pretty good for you.

Other than how to explain to your parents that you weren’t married. You’d still have to figure that out at some point.

Over the last few days at the beach house with your family, you felt better about things than you’d felt in a while. You didn’t feel as bad for dragging Chris into things now that the two of you reached an understanding and were properly together and not just pretending to be. You’d stopped thinking about the wedding rings ages ago and you could cuddle up to him with zero guilt and all the affection in the world. It was things you’d been feeling for ages, but you felt so much better owning up to them.

It was on the last day that you found yourself alone with your older brother. You’d woken up earlier than the rest of the family because you always seemed to wait until the last minute to pack. You’d taken a while to unfold yourself from Chris, and you’d moved as silently as you could to not wake him up. Once you were sure everything was packed away, you checked your phone to see that you still had an hour before you had to wake Chris up. You knew the whole family would be up not soon after to see the two of you off. You were glad for a moment of quiet, which you took with a cup of tea out on the porch swing, looking at the water. You’d only made it about halfway through your tea when someone interrupted your train of thought.

“Can I join you?”

You turned around to see your brother, cup of coffee in hand, looking down at you. You nodded, making room for him on the porch swing and he plopped himself next to you. The two of you sat there in silence for a little while, taking sips from your respective mugs, looking out at the water. It was a while before he broke the silence.

“You seem happy,” your brother stated matter-of-factly.

“Yeah?” you asked, glancing over at him. Your eyebrows climbed up your face as you looked at him and saw how serious he looked.

“You do,” he informed, looking over at you. “I think I’ve seen you smile more in the last few days than all the other times I’ve seen you lately.” You chuckled a little, taking a sip of your tea as that sank in. You’d certainly felt happier lately. There was no denying how Chris made you feel…anymore.

“I…I’m feeling good,” you told him, choosing your words carefully. “I’m surprised it makes that big a difference that you noticed.”

“All the difference in the world,” he said. He took a sip of his coffee before adding, “I’m happy for you. I was worried when you told us when you’d gotten married. It seemed fucking dumb. Especially since none of us knew you were finally dating your roommate. But the two of you are good together.”

That made you smile.

“Thanks, dork,” you said, chuckling a little as you tilted your head towards him to bump his shoulder with it. He chuckled too, reaching out to pat your head.

“Also, I told him if he hurt you, I’d take him out here, kick his ass, and throw him in the ocean.”

“I am…not surprised.”

When you got back into the house, Chris was already awake and downstairs, eating a couple pieces of toast that your mother had given him. Within the next few minutes, your entire family piled down into the kitchen to see you off. Your cousins all seemed angry to be awake so early but you hugged them extra tightly. It didn’t take long to pack the car, and your mother was crying on the front porch as you packed.

“You’ll see us soon,” she told you in a watery voice. “Your father and I will be coming down next month to get planning done.”

“O-okay Mom,” you sighed, squeezing her.

“Let me know when you get home,” she said, letting go of you.

“I will,” you promised. “Bye, Mom.” You hugged your dad, who was standing next to your mother, just letting her cry it out with a couple reassuring pats on her shoulder. Chris came back up onto the porch to shake your father’s hand and get pulled into a hug by your mother. It took your brother honking, yelling from the car about how you’d miss your flight to get the two of you off the porch. The two of you slid into the car and your brother was backing out before you even got your seatbelts on.

—

In the two weeks since the beach house, you and Chris had slid back into your old routine, with the new addition of finding ways to have sex in about every part of your apartment. The two of you had taken up residence in your bedroom (because you had the nicer mattress) and while you were practically on top of each other while at home, you hadn’t exactly told any of your friends about the new development. It was nice to have it just be between the two of you for a little while, and not have to worry about what anyone was going to say.

You had the unfortunate habit of forgetting to take your wedding ring off. You’d catch it while you were getting your morning coffee and have to slide it off before any of your coworkers caught you with it on. It was a tough thing to try and explain, pretending to be married to your boyfriend, who hadn’t been your boyfriend when you two bought the rings. You still hadn’t really wanted to deal with the actually not being married situation yet. It wasn’t long before your parents arrived to plan the party for the wedding you didn’t have, but neither you nor Chris were ready to face that head on yet. You’d mentioned it once, and Chris had just grumbled and buried his face in your neck, sucking a purple mark into existence and thoroughly distracting you.

It was normal for Aaron to be around when you got home from work, but you’d had the kind of day that you’d just wanted to curl up with your boyfriend on the couch. Yet, when you’d walked through the door, you’d found yourself being pulled into a conversation with Chris and Aaron.

“Your wife?” Aaron was asking incredulously, “who the fuck…is that a wedding ring?!”

Absentmindedly, you found yourself twisting your own wedding ring as you made your way through the apartment to the kitchen. You stood next to Chris, hands down on the counter, looking across the island at Aaron.

“[Y/N],” he said in an exasperated tone. “Chris is wearing a fucking wedding and saying he’s got a wife,” he explained, pointing down at Chris’ hand. That was when he noticed the ring on your left hand, and Aaron’s eyes narrowed at the sight. He looked up at you, a look of utter confusion on his face. “What the actual fuck is going on?”

Sighing heavily, you launch into the story of what had happened. You explained how you accidentally told your family you were married in a moment of panic, how Chris had been kind enough to go along with it (Aaron interjected there that you could ask Chris to kill a man and he was in love with you enough he’d do it without hesitation) and about the beach house. You left out some choice moments because Aaron didn’t seem to be the kind of person to want to hear about his friends’ sex lives, and about how the two of you decided to actually be together.

“But you two aren’t married,” Aaron stated once you were done. You nodded slowly.

“That…is the jist of it, I guess,” you said.

“So, the two of you realize how fucking insane it is for the two of you to be walking around with wedding rings and saying shit like wife and husband?”

“I mean, we could…just get married,” Chris suggested, “make it less weird.” Chris seemed taken aback by what he’d said, and you had been too. Aaron burst out into laughter.

“You’re cracked!” he exclaimed. “You have to fucking be kidding me. Look, I’m happy the two of you are finally together after listening to Chris bitch for the last five years but you can’t just get married after being together for. A. Month.”

“Why not?” you asked suddenly. “We already have the rings. And you guys have been saying it for years. Chris and I have basically a couple for forever.”

“That doesn’t actually mean you’re a married couple,” Aaron explained slowly. “You two need to get some sense.” He shook his head, “I have a date tonight anyway. I’m just gonna go before the two of you drag me into your weird little life.” He took his stuff from the couch (where he always left it no matter how many times you pointed out you had a coat rack) and left, closing the door behind him.

You and Chris stood there for a while in silence. You looked at both of your wedding rings, and decided to throw caution to the wind. You’d definitely been considering the suggestion, but it felt insane. Still, Chris had brought it up in the first place.

“You know,” you started, glancing up at his face. “We could just go to the courthouse tomorrow. Just do it.”

“Yeah,” Chris agreed, putting his hand on top of yours and smiling a little. “Just doesn’t feel right not being married to you anymore.” The both of you laughed at the comment, the reasoning you’d been giving everyone, coming back. You leaned over, kissing him.

“Then let’s do it,” you told him, smiling. Chris perked up, beaming at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Chris pulled you into the tightest hug you could ever remember getting, and you laughed. He captured your lips with his, still hugging you. You kissed him back feverishly, draping your arms around his neck. The two of you kissed for a while until neither of you could breathe and when he pulled away from you, Chris immediately ducked down to bury his face in your neck.

“We’re going to need a witness, you know,” you pointed out. Chris chuckled against you.

“I think I know someone we could have do it.”

The next morning, you texted Aaron to let him know the two of you were coming to get him. You framed it as an apology breakfast for freaking him out, and he took the bait. The man was always down for free food; you knew him well enough to know there were few things he wouldn’t do for some bacon and scrambled eggs.

“So, where are we going?” asked Aaron from the backseat of your car.

“A place over by the courthouse,” you informed, smirking over at Chris, who winked at you in return. There was a light conversation about stuff you’d missed with your friends while on vacation. Aaron always seemed to just know things and he was usually the person to ask to catch you up. Aaron, surprisingly, didn’t seem to catch onto what was happening until you pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse.

“This…is not breakfast,” Aaron said slowly as you turned off your car.

“It’s the courthouse,” stated Chris, chuckling slightly. “We’ve got a stop to make before breakfast.” The both of you got out of the car, leaving Aaron in the backseat. You threw your arms around Chris’ waist while you waited for your friend to join you, yawning.

“Can we go back to sleep after this?” you muttered against his arm.

“I, uh, sort of had other plans for us,” Chris informed, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you. You rolled your eyes but smiled, giving him a quick kiss.

“Of course you do.”

Aaron finally popped out of the car, a stern look on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. He looked ready to put on his best parent rant, but the two of you had made your minds. Still, you’d agreed to let Aaron go on, knowing he’d rant. It’d be interesting.

“You two can’t fucking do this,” he said, looking between you and Chris. “It’s insane. You have to know it’s insane.”

“We’re doing it,” you stated. “If there’s things to worry about, we’ll deal with it.”

“We’re not asking you to marry us,” Chris sighed. “Just be our witness. Be our friend and support us. And if it crashes and burns, you have divine permission to tell us you were right for the rest of your life. Fair?”

Aaron stared at the two of you, eyes narrowed, for a long moment. “Fair,” he finally decided.

It took the group of you longer than you’d liked to to find the right office. You’d wandered to the third floor to be told to go to the first floor. From the first floor, you got sent to the fourth, and then finally, you’d gotten sent to the second floor where you wanted to be. Chris and you had to fill out more paperwork than you’d hoped. But then, you two were waiting in line, Chris’ arms around you and smiling brightly with Aaron just shaking his head every once in a while.

“So, tell me about yourself,” the clerk behind the desk asked while you waited, smiling at the two of you. “How’d you two meet?”

“We were college roommates, actually,” you told her, leaning your head against Chris’ own.

“Oh my god,” a girl whispered to her girlfriend behind her. “They were roommates.”

Aaron snorted, but before he could say anything, you guys were getting called to go actually get married. You were buzzing with excitement, and every time you looked over at Chris, you felt a rush of affection. You could understand where Aaron was coming from, but every other part of you was telling you marrying Chris was the right thing to do.

So, you married him.

You waited a whole day to demand all your friends meet at a restaurant to tell them the news. Aaron, for all the misgivings he had, also kept his mouth shut about your secret. It’d take them all a while to get used to it, but they all seemed happy for you. If nothing else, they were glad the pining was over. They might have been pretending to be okay with the wedding thing, but even Aaron was getting used to it. Everyone else would sooner or later. You and Chris were happy, so insanely happy, and that was what mattered.

A few nights after the courthouse wedding, you curled up next to Chris in bed, humming happily. You looked at him, beaming, and he chuckled, booping your noise. It was still a little strange how natural everything felt, but you weren’t complaining. You couldn’t help but giggle a little in excitement at the sight of your wedding ring. You didn’t have to take it off anymore, and it was the best.

“What are you smiling about?” Chris asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m just…glad things worked out,” you explained, sighing happily.

“I am too,” he told you. “I didn’t expect you to actually want to go through with the wedding when I brought it up to Aaron.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Chris sighed. “It just seemed too good to be true.”

“Well, it’s true,” you told him, smiling brightly. You held out your hand to admire your wedding ring. “And you’re legally stuck with me now.”

“No one I’d rather be stuck with,” he stated, pulling you close. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you told him, taking his face in both of your hands and kissing him deeply. You really could do that for the rest of your life. Luckily, you could and you wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
